Raise the Red Banners
by InDeathWeLaugh
Summary: Maelys the monstrous was not to be, the twins Maelys and Daeron Blackfyre were born instead. Daeron the cunning convinced his brother to not join the Band of Nine. In exile they waited for a chance to take what they feel is rightfully theirs. A tourney in Westeros presents that chance, and so raises the Red Banner.
1. Chapter 1: Siege of Gulltown

**Daeron**

 **283 A.C**

 **Essos**

Daeron tapped his aching back with his knuckles. By the gods how long had it been when they were young men fighting in Essos gathering power to regain their birth right? Years too many to count and many mroe bloody fights with his brother to care. He needed to constantly cool his brothers head to remind him what happened to their ancestor. What Rebellion meant when not done properly! Had it not been for him they would have thrown their lot with the now infamous Band of Nine all those years ago. Look what that got them, without the Golden Company their efforts fell through. Melys was furious of course and went into one of his "hunts" as he called them. Always came back a fortnight later bloodied and with a few men less in his party. Daeron long decided it was pointless to ask him his whereabouts.

"M'lord!" One of his soldiers came in panting and sweating from the Essos sun. He looked half rattled and about ready to keel over. With a calm expression, as ever Daeron poured the man some water from his skin into a cup. He drank it greedily some spilling on his leather.

"Go on," Daeron muttered, his attention on the map at hand. Pentos had some grievance or other with Tyrosh and a contract was in the works.

"Wonderful news! Something has happened in Westeros, here!" The man eagerly handed him parchment, the seal was from his contacts in the West. Daeron plucked it from the man's grasp and read it. His light purple eyes widened, his mouth went dry as his lips parted ever so slightly. It was time, the gods rewarded his patience, their patience!

"My brother and the captains call them quickly! I care not what they are doing this is matter is of most importance!" Daeron set quickly to writing letters to inform the necessary people in Westeros.

"Yes m'lord!" He clearly felt Daeron's own energy and sprinted out to do as he was commanded. Not two hours later, the command of the Golden Company arrived at his tent. At their their head stood his brother Maelys with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. _Oh, brother I shall wipe such a look from your face_ Daeron smirked, his teeth all there still he thanked the seven. With him Myles "Blackheart" Toyne his second in command and a soldier if there ever was one. Their sons, Aegon Daeron's son and Valerion Maelys son.

"The time is now, friends and brothers in arms. Westeros is finally ripe for the taking. Aegon read this for me, my son. This old man might die of happiness if I do so again." Daeron handed the parchment to his son.

His eyes scanned it eagerly before his mouth went agape and a smile spread across his lips. "Aerys Targaryen has executed Brandon Stark and Rickard Stark. In response to Rhaegar Targaryen the Crown Prince abduction of Lyanna Stark sister to now Lord Eddard Stark and betrothed to Robert Baratheon. The Vale of Arryn has risen in Rebellion to protect Robert, and Eddard who in turn raise their banners in Rebellion." Aegon could not help it, he laughed a hearty laugh and his Cousin Valerion turned and hugged Aegon excited. Maely's once sour face cracked with a hearty laugh. His old age hardly slowing him down he picked up both boys with immense strength. The two clad in mail and leather, no less. He tossed them around cackling. Myles Toyne simply let a small smile at the display.

"Shall I ready the men then?" Myles clapped his hands once rubbing them together.

"Yes, we must move quickly our time is short and we must contact the Rebels. This can only end with House Targaryen being removed from the throne." Daeron moved around his brother and son set to work as well. There was a war to win, and Daeron planned to win it with Blood and Steel.

 **Aegon**

 **283 A.C**

 **The Vale**

"Father's contacts are amazing!" Aegon gripped the rails of his ship, _The Black Dread_ named after his ancestor's dragon. Like the times of ancient he was as his namesake, a conqueror and from a young age Aegon was bred to be a king. Though unlike his ancestor it was not a dragon but a ship he sailed. From Volantis to Braavos ships built with gold from their contracts and contacts made by his father Daeron. He was, despite his father and uncle being twins, born first. His uncle Maelys hadn't been the happiest. Yet he remembered as a child his uncle put him on his shoulders and point him to Westeros. Their home, the place they belonged, Aegon would rule he would make sure of it his counterparts the Targaryen's had finally made a mistake. A big mistake that would cost them their rule. Aegon gripped Blackfyre at his hip, the sword long thought lost was in Volantis waiting its master, thanks to Aegon's father it had found it. First his uncle wielded it, then he was gifted it on his eighteenth nameday. A sword fit for a king, and he planned to be the best Westeros saw since Aegon the Conqueror.

"Land!" Valerion cried with vigor, his helm fell from his grasp on the deck. He was held back by a marine as his brother leaned out too far on the railing for comfort. In his plate, he would sink in seconds, it certainly wouldn't do when home was close enough to taste. Aegon smirked, _The Black Dread_ unfurled all its sails and below deck the rowers put their backs into it. Even over the noise of the sailors readying for landing the sounds of war reached Aegon's ears. Steel and men dying a symphony he was all too familiar from his countless battles in Essos. When their ships were close enough to spot their sails, the town's bell rang. A loud thunderous sound signifying their arrival.

"Let's respond in candor, drums!" Aegon bellowed. A rhythmic thump followed his command, from below deck the men of the golden company poured out filling _Black Dread's_ decks with soldiers. Soon the whole fleet sung the rhythmic thumping. Gulltown's ports as their contact told were big enough to dock ships. _The_ _Black Dread, Lady Lys, Stranger and, Bess_ would take the ports. Aegon and Velarion would lead the foot into town to take the keep some two thousand strong. More men would follow on boat once near the docks. His uncle would take the rest of the fleet and make landfall with Calvary and make to unite with Jon Arryn's forces. The port was in sight _Black Dread_ docked into a port Aegon drew Blackfyre and was the first down the boarding ramp. He donned his helm as he ran down the ramp, Myles in charge of his personal guard was second. The Garrison scrambled to meet them the Grafton Levies rushed to form ranks easily filled with gaps. The fumbling townsmen brought up spears scythes and hoes in an attempt to intimidate them.

Aegon took his sword in both hands, he breathed his first taste of Westerosi air with salt of the sea. He exhaled and roared as the dragon he was born to be. "Beneath the Gold, the bitter steel!" Aegon charged, his men smashed against the Gulltown garrison. Men were knocked down, to the right his men cut through the enemy's flank. Aegon slew any who dared try him, Blackfyre hacked through armor like exposed flesh. He pushed forward through the enemy's center, the Garrison split dividing itself into smaller easier to kill groups. The better trained and battle hardened Golden Company swiftly cut down the levies. No knight that was among the chaos could muster an effective rally. The garrison routed towards the frontal wall, Velarion eager and if a bit foolish made chase, his men following suit. Aegon was tempered, instead he regrouped the remainder and awaited further reinforcements. His brother took with him four hundred men. Aegon moved with the rest, to take the lighlty defended castle at the center of town. Taking it would be easy enough, the routed levies would have little time to warn the keeps defenders. Swiftly Aegon and his men cut a bloody swath through the streets a few knights tried rallying the routing force but Aegon was too quick. His men overwhelmed them and Aegon slew the knights foolish enough to try him. Among the dead knights a man with a tower on his surcoat died desperately trying to kill Aegon.

"Forgive me ser, you did your duty. May mother carry you and treat your wounds." Aegon stepped over the body, the Keep within sight. Aegon moved fast, but the portcullis opened and out on horseback a small force of mounted knights rode for their center. Aegon did not panic he stepped back, "spears forward!" His command was followed as quickly as possible. "Hold!" The Golden Company raised shields and between the gaps spears thrusted out when the riders were close enough. The horses were skewered as some of the riders in lighter mail coats only the first two ranks of his men fell to the weight of armored horses and men. The small force trying to take the commander scattered and tried to return to the keep. "Forward with me!" Aegon raised Blackfyre and charged the keep. His men followed suit, nearly sixty men made it inside in a bloody struggle. The first room was cleared in mere moments. The men-at-arms, though well trained, got caught unaware and it cost them their lives.

"The portcullis, open it!" Aegon's men did so quickly and efficiently the rest of his forces poured inside.

"Split here, your grace!" Aegon was nearly stunned to silence, but he recovered quickly. Your Grace, that was a first until they decidedly committed to this campaign.

"Aye! With me men. Find Lord Grafton's son and wife and win the day!" Aegon scoured the keep, his men clearing floors as they went the cramp halls of the keep made for a bad place to battle. Yet Aegon cut down the men-at-arms defending their liege Lord's family. Bodies began piling the halls, footing became treacherous as bodies obstructed his advance. The blood soaked the stone floor causing some men to fall. The fallen, no matter the side, trampled under the sheer weight of numbers. Near the Lords Solar another knight of house Grafton rallied the men-at-arms. Quickly Aegon Faced the knight, he was good and pushed Aegon back. They traded blows their footing loose, finally with a final thrust, Blackfyre pierced the knights heart. The man's fall clearly killed all morale the defenders threw their arms down, and gave way for Aegon. As he entered the Lord's Solar he found Lady Grafton. She held her son, a mere boy. "I am Aegon Blackfyre sixth of my name King of the Andals the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the seven Kingdoms Protector of the Realm. My men and I promise your safety, but please yield the castle to me."

"We have little choice on the matter, enemies to our rear and our front, we tried to remain loyal, but it was not meant to be. I yield the keep to you if you guarantee the safety of my son and myself." Lady Grafton dignified in all manner betrayed no fear in her voice.

Aegon smiled and extended his hand, only briefly he noticed the bloody mess of his gauntlets. Thinking better of it he retracted it and bowed thankfully to Lady Grafton. Gulltown was theirs, the defenders just didn't know it yet.

 **Velarion**

 **283 A.C**

 **The Vale**

"To the Battlements lads let's go!" Velarion was bred for this, every day when Aegon would be studying he snuck out to train with the men. He had been fighting with the Golden Company since he was fifteen, his brother started a year later on uncle Daeron's insistence. Velarion if he was honest didn't care much for kingship. His interest where battle, wine and whores a plenty to warm his bed, at nineteen he hadn't a care in the world and only lusted for the latter. Yet when the opportunity arose to go where his father constantly reminded them as theirs. He couldn't explain the happiness, he honestly thought he would never care, but he wanted this. He wanted home. He wanted to find a spot that he could return to that wasn't tents outside a city. With that conviction at heart, Velarion followed his brother, his king to war. His men climbed the battlements the ramparts were chaos who was fighting who was impossible to tell. Well until Velarion made head to the man brandishing a hammer on the battlements. To his feet injured a man with a Valyrian sword Defending him and keeping him from the enemy hands was Robert Baratheon. His surcoat held the black stag on a yellow field.

"To the gate lads! Ser Denys with me!" Robert Baratheon had a battlefield voice not unlike his father. When the man's helm looked to his and his inverted banner uncertainty yet fury seemed to set the mood.

"I am Velarion Blackfyre, I fight for my brother against House Targaryen, prey tell Lord Robert Baratheon who do you fight?" Velarion adjusted the grip of his sword pointing down yet ready to bring to bear should the worst happen. Their entire plan hinged on this, would the rebels fight with them? Chaos reigned and their intentions had been clear in their message to the Rebel Lords.

"Hah! I thought you were all dead!" Robert Baratheon lifted his visor a broad grin across his face. "When Jon told me, you were some bastard exiles I thought he was joking."

Velarion bristled at being called a bastard, his line was legitimized by Aegon the Unworthy. "We are the true heirs of the Iron Throne, legitimized by-"

Robert interrupted him. "I don't care if the Seven fucking legitimized you, if you're an enemy of the mad king you're a friend of mine! Come on then let's take this fucking town!" Robert bellowed, slapped his visor down. He practically shouldered his way through Velarion and his men. The Valemen hollered and followed suit. Before Velarion knew it he had a grin on his face. This man, Robert Baratheon might be a kindred spirit to Velarion. With a spin of his sword he followed the Bartheon Lord to battle, the Golden Company and the Rebel Venguard attacked the defenders at the gatehouse. Robert Baratheon was a fury of blows, his hammer crushed any man who dared fight him. Amid the chaos, Robert Baratheon found himself facing off against Lord Marq Grafton. The older man rallied the defenders around him and charged Robert's center. Any sane man with a sense for tactics would hunker down and dissipate the force of bodies against a shield wall. Robert instead yelled at the top of his lungs and charged right back! Both sides smacked into each other shields on shields, swords piercing bodies. Robert Baratheon smashed through shields with his hammer. Any blow getting past his defense he shrugged off in his armor. The loyalist, deseprate for victory put up a tough fight. One of Lord Grafton's knights pushed into Robert's left flank, seeing his chance Velarion charged the incoming men with his Golden Company. The counter attack soon turned from an organized charge to bloody melee. Formations began dissolving as men gave to primal rage and killed each other with whatever they could grab.

If nothing was available they'd smash men with their helms. If the helms slick with blood fell from their grips, their bare hands would do. Hell, Velarion even saw one man strangle a man who was stabbing him in the gut in return! The battle intensified and the gatehouse to right began to gave way to the battering ram outside. Through the carnage of death inside the walls he could hear the heavy thud against the gate. Velarion wished to act quickly, he wanted to get his men to the gatehouse and open it. To open the gate would win him quite a bit of glory, yet the gods seemed fit to shower Robert Baratheon with it. At the center of the carnage Robert faced Lord Marq Grafton in single combat. The older Lord was skillful and seemed experienced enough. Yet he was old, this prolonged battle left him tired and it showed as the younger Robert and much faster man smashed Lord Grafton's chest with the spike at the end of his hammer.

"Lyanna!" Robert's mighty hammer crushed Lord Marq Griftan right under the gatehouse to Gulltown with a woman's name at his lips. The defenders lost all hope, whatever loyalist remained threw their weapons down and the days was theirs. Velarion cheered with his men, as he looked over the carnage his armor stained with blood his red surcoat at the least hiding the stains well. He saw at the town center, the red banner with black dragon fly over the keep. While a man atop the highest tower waved the Golden Company's standard.

 **Daeron**

 **283 A.C**

 **Vale**

Daeron felt his old bones cry out under the weight of his armor, his once flowing silver hair was white as snow. His brother led the Calvary around Gulltown the red banners and the Golden Company standard flew behind them. When the Rebel camp was within sight they were quickly met by the rebel forces. Leading them seemed to be Lord Yohn Royce, his Pikemen formed up four ranks deep. Their pikes down at the front and more through the gaps, the gleaming sun set an almost artistic picture Yohn Royce on horseback, his sword at his side. His men held firm at his back, Daeron raised his hand to tell his men to stand down. Maelys grunted and rode forward Daeron did so as well.

"Lord Yohn Royce I presume?" Daeron put his fist across his chest, a sign of one warrior to the other.

"Yes, you must be the "Black Dragons" that command the Golden Company." Royce swept his sword down and the pike line ceased to be. His men returned to file and rank, even the Golden Company was impressed at the sight. These weren't some levies with pitchforks but a trained army, the pikemen parted for Lord Jon Arryn. From there it was a simple matter of time, the Vale banners flew above Gulltown. Yet above the keep in the middle of town was the Black Dragon and the Golden Company standard.

The Rebels met within Gulltown's walls, much celebration was done by the victorious armies. The Golden Company men easily joined the Valemen. His nephew Velarion was out drinking and whoring again. Though Daeron tried to make him act more befitting their rank, it fell on deaf ears. Maelys wasn't much help on the matter. Still it was worth celebrating, Lyn Corbry was knighted for fighting bravely and honorably. He pledges his sword to Lord Arryn on the spot, though really there had never been a choice. Noteworthy Ser Mandon Moore was second only to Robert Baratheon on the battlements. Ser Mandon Moore killed some four knights atop the battlements and was given quite the congratulations. But the man's expression was blank and dead through it all, really, he lost the love he gained as quickly as he got it.

"My Lords, I come to you seeking what my family has fought for generations. Under Targaryen rule this country has suffered, but I plan to make sure my line makes no such mistakes." Aegon swept across the gathered lords of the Vale. Blackheart stood at his side arms behind him already people thought him the first of Aegon's Kingsguard. Not an entirely bad idea but he wondered if Toyne even desired a white cloak or his ancestral home returned. He supposed it was for another time, the gathered Vale Lords in Lord what was it now? Ah yes Lord Gerold Grifton's solar. The Lady Grifton was with her son though the lad had been told of his fathers demise. He held a quiet dignity to be admired for a boy his age.

"How would you do that?" Robert Baratheon without thought blurted out before them. Daeron closed his eyes sighing to himself, his son wasn't as… irritable as Velarion, but he could also be foolishly proud.

His son thankfully wasn't so hot headed as to retort in a manner ill befitting a future king. "First despite our family's great… pedigree, I plan to band that most noble of Targaryen tradition of sister fucking." A twist to his lips made the Lords laugh aloud Robert Baratheon chief amongst them banging his gauntlet fist on the table. The pieces on the map before them rattling with the force. Dearon wondered if the young Baratheon could match Maelys in strength. The duel between their cousin coming back to mind. A horrible display in strength, when his brother twisted their cousins head from his shoulders.

"Aye that's a way to start, and the High Septon will be welcoming of you for the efforts your grace." Lord Jon Arryn nodded the only one who did not laugh along with his bannermen.

"I also plan to help you get what your family has dutifully deserves Lord Baratheon, and to Lord Stark as well." Aegon's tone conveyed respect and sympathy, the Vale Lords nodded silently.

Robert Baratheon stood and rounded the corner Warhammer in hand. Blackheart seeing the quick pace reached for his sword but Aegon stopped him. He walked before the Baratheon man easily inches taller than his son. "Rhaegar Targaryen took my beloved, the coward ran and remains in hiding yet. Promise me I will get to kill him, give me the chance to kill him. I don't care how symbolic it is for or your family to kill him he is mine. Do this and I will name you whatever you damn please." Robert stretched his hand out for his son. In a moment of insanity, Daeron thought if the gods flipped their coin and his son would say something to crush their dreams.

His son took Robert's hand and shook it firmly. "You have yourself a king then Lord Robert Baratheon."

A smile played across the Baratheon Lord, charismatic and infectious to all around even Daeron's lips twisted upward. _Had we not come, had we never been, this man could have been a king._ "Then here stands the only king I mean to bend my knee to." Robert stepped and knelt his war hammer pommel against the ground erect in pledging fealty. "To King Aegon Blackfyre!" In a chorus of movement and steel leaving scabbards. The vale Lords moved and knelt before his son, swords drawn they pronounced him king.

"King Aegon Blackfyre!" The Vale Lords declared firmly. Aegon drew Blackfyre for their namesake. Held high above Aegon looked noble, powerful he looked a king. He looked the hope for their families long years of ambition.

 **No, I did not start a new project, this is just an exercise I had to do, for battles. This is an interesting thought I had. What if scenario where the War of the Ninepenny Kings never happened the Band of Nine failed in the disputed lands. The Golden Company didn't join them. So, here's the changes made to the story. But mainly, this was an exercise on battle scenes, war scenes I will need for my stories. So give me your feedback tell me if the battles flowed well and if they have enough detail or too little detail. I feel it's enough to get the carnage across, while detailed enough to keep a cohesive battle. I do plan to perhaps add more scenery to make better sense of the battle. I don't know again tell me how you feel about the battle.**

 **-Maelys didn't "consume" his twin and both were born, Daeron being the cunning quiet type while Maelys was the muscle.**

 **-Both married into Volintian nobility and had sons, Being Twins I decided they were pretty close so Maelys didn't mind letting his brother's son take the throne.**

 **-Velarion is boisterous and loves to fight, Aegon is calm and collected but is secretly a better warrior than Velarion. He just holds back for his brother sake as he loves him dearly.**

 **\- Aegon is married off to Catelyn Tully to secure Tully alliance.**

 **-Ser Denys loses his family earlier on, so he's married off to Lysa Tully.**

 **-Ned marries Ashara Dayne sparing her death and their mystery bastard lives. Yes, I believe Ned and Ashara had a thing instead of Brandon.**

 **-Finally, things end just about the same, but instead Cersei is married off to Velarion. Not exactly as a reward but punishment for joining the war late. Everyone who fought for the Targaryens are pardoned. Also, Prince Lewyn survives but he is dismissed from the Kingsguard with him, Rhaegar's son survives as does Dany and Viserys sent across the Narrow Sea.**

 **-Robert marries Lyanna as well on the condition that they kept Lyanna's son with Rhaegar. Robert agrees but the bastard is sent north to Ned who raises him with Ashara. Robert not being a king is a much better person and his marriage to Lyanna goes well for the most part. Robert stopped whoring but kept drinking. Lyanna beats him into better shape. They have two sons.**

 **-For the hell of it, Ned has two sons and a daughter, she can Arya or Sansa never decided.**

 **-Aegon and Catelyn have two daughters and a son.**

 **-Cersei and Velarion have three sons, something Cersei flaunts at Catelyn.**

 **-Ser Denys and Lysa have a son and two daughters, Lysa doesn't suffer from miscarriages.**

 **Edit 8/4/2017: Shadowcrest Nightingale my beta, and additionally I will be adding a second chapter adding her help to see if it improves.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Summerhall Battles

**Aegon**

 **283 A.C**

 **Stormlands**

Aegon lifted his hand to call a halt to the marching army, he supposed armies might be the better word. Robert Baratheon called his banners to assemble in Summerhall the ruined castle of Aegon's ancestors that once tried to hatch dragons. To recapture what was once lost, but never to be regained again, foolishness to look to the past was a waste of time. The future is what mattered his ancestors claim is all he took from the past anything else was not needed. His father liked to tell him otherwise and Aegon took what wisdom the past offered and then left it buried. Their Army made camp on eastern side of the castle, an old half dilapidated fort.

Two stone towers remained the walls crumbled on all sides and several breaches made it shite to hold. But it was on a hill overlooking the open field to the west. To their back at the east was the Kingswood, an army would have march around them to even try to attack their rear. Outriders to the north and South kept any such notions. The South had the Dornish Red Mountains and a perfect view of any Dornish forces that might try them. They could if need be pick up and leave before any army dared meet them, as it so happened three armies would do as much. Robert despite Aegon thinking him a simple fool pleased by hitting things was quite the strategist. When the loyalist Lords came to Summerhall they would attack the first army that befell them. Keeping them off balance and unable to unite into a bigger threat.

"Gods what a day for war eh?" Robert rather casually approached Aegon without so much as 'your grace.'

"I've been fighting in Essos all my life; any day is good for war Lord Baratheon." Aegon quipped to the Stormlord.

"That must be the life! Good men, song and skulls to bash! I bet you and your brother got a tale for every battle you fought." Robert leaned back on his saddle, his horse in a yellow surcoat blew air and try to bite Aegons own horse. The horses almost mirrored their riders, Aegon didn't hate Robert nor was he that fond of him. He was a great warrior to be true but beyond that the man spoke only of fighting, fucking and, drinking. His cousin and him could talk and measure their cocks for days, but Aegon tried to keep his conversations with Lord Baratheon as short and civil as he could. Despite the man's constant efforts to forgo propriety and rank.

"Aye, I suppose he told you most of them," Aegon said dismissively.

Lost on Robert he threw a casual smack to his pauldron with a smirk. "He tells me you took a knife from a whore when you were pulling him out half naked and drunk from a Pentoshi brothel."

"Ah, he told you that one, did he? She plunged it into my side before my men came in and got us out." Aegon cracked a small smile, not his proudest or fondest of memories but his cousin had all but cut his own fingers off in apology.

"He did! If I had it my way I'd join you in that Sellsword band of yours. Gods those must have been some battles." Robert looked reminiscent, as if he had fought the battles himself. Robert wouldn't really fit in all that well. He wanted to leave Westeros everyone in the Golden Company just wanted to go back. Aegon entertained the thought to tell him the Golden Company would be no more after this. He would reward his loyal men, return what was lost and win the people his Targaryen counterparts mistreated. But he decided against it in the end, a man can dream after all.

"So, what about that wife of yours? I didn't get to see much wanted to leave as quick as I did." Robert shrugged off the previous conversation for a worst topic than his previous battles.

"My Queen Catelyn Blackfyre is a lovely woman, she will make a good queen and good wife." Aegon's reply was stiff and he turned his horse to move away from Robert.

The Baratheon Lord took it as an invitation, he rode next to Aegon, "She is a fine woman indeed, hard to think Ned's brother was almost her husband… fucking Targaryens." Robert's fury seemed to rise at the mere mention of his counterpart's name. Aegon himself held no hatred, he simply saw them as an obstacle to his overall goal. To claim what is his to forge ahead into a future worth the blood spilt.

"Yes, I assume Lord Brandon was a good man, as was Lord Rickard. From what I hear plenty of men lost their life when Lord Stark's brother was captured." Aegon tried switching the topic from his recent marriage to something else. He still felt odd about his marriage, originally Catelyn was to marry Brandon Starks brother to Eddard Stark. His father had other plans and instead married him to House Tully, the prospect of Queenship was all that Hoster Tully needed to agree. His second daughter marrying Ser Denys Arryn was just to sweeten the deal and seal a great alliance. Top it all off he also got a squire in the process of young Edmure Tully eager for glory short on brains at times. Also as what appeared to be Aegon's curse he liked to whoremonger, Like Velarion, Robert and now his squire. The gods had a queer sense of humor when it came to find him companions.

"I didn't know the man, but Ned loved him dearly. As any brother would love one another," Robert paused at the mention of brothers. "But it matters not, what matters now is to deliver justice for his lost for all crimes committed by the Mad King." Robert crushed the air with his fist his frame almost shook with fury.

"Your Grace! An army approaches from the West!" A rider shouted when he was within earshot. He came up short on the hill near them.

"What banners?" Robert put himself just ahead of Aegon, the outrider was one of his bannermen.

"A moon over green battlements Milord," the man dipped his head in respect.

"Lord Fell, the fool I never thought he would do this, we should assemble the army Your Grace," Robert finally addressed him properly and bowed his head respectfully.

"Yes, if we move quickly we can position ourselves on the hills the mountains to our right." Aegon turned his horse to face Robert.

"Then we shall meet Lord Fell on the field!" Robert turned his horse rode away to prepare. Aegon himself moved to assemble the Golden Company, with him was a partial force the company split between himself and his cousin Velarion. He took three thousand footmen, a good portion spearmen companies, and crossbow companies. Then he took a hundred knights, plus two hundred of their "special" Calvary. The flat open field was perfect, though even at the edge of the Stormlands Aegon hoped the weather remain fair and the ground remain dry and solid. Fighting in the muck and muddy ground was less than ideal. Worst when men died on it, the unlucky wounded who didn't get their wounds cleaned right away would die slow painful deaths. While their army assembled Aegon walked the ruined castle to find the remains of a small sept. he prayed for fair weather and for the lives that would be lost. He was as religious as a king should be, yet this was done out of heartfelt intention than to win over the Stormlords.

They assembled their fighting force on the morning of the next day. Robert left his levies to the rear, a rather honorable move. Marching out was four thousand footmen, some company of swordsmen, two longbow companies, some pikemen companies and spearmen companies. His vanguard consisted of some four hundred knights, Robert himself at their head. His footmen commanded by Beric Dundarrion of Blackheaven. Beric's father as with many other Lords commanded the companies, but Beric was given the honor to lead the whole of the footmen. Tristan Rivers commanded the Golden Company Footmen, while Balaq Black commanded the crossbowmen. Though he knew he prefer the bow, Aegon would have no other man command his missile infantry. With their armies settled Aegon and Robert beat Lord Fells men to the high ground. Their army lined up on the hill peeking over the horizon, the march made sure to last for the sun to be at their back. Their footmen lined up peeking over the hill spears and pikes stretching across the grasslands. The field below was flat and preferable for riding, To the north their cavalry guarded their right flank. The south was guarded by a hundred Stormland knights with Lord Ralph Buckler at their head.

Lord Fell lined his army similarly he commanded a force of two thousand strong, and two hundred knights. His forces mostly consisted of levies, and his trained men-at-arms made up the center of the formation. The knights split into two groups to guard the right and left flanks. While Robert and Aegon held the superior numbers in horses, Aegon made sure his special cavalry remained behind the hills for cover. They would engage the Fell Van and the special calvary would smash their center, for a decisive victory. Their armies were ready, Lord Fell did not seem ready to back down the time to move was now. Aegon donned his helm and drew Blackfyre, he used the sword moving it in a circle and then brought it down.

"Infantry march!" The command was given Beric led the march down as their combined arms in perfect formation moved against Lord Fell. From the hills, their forces must look like water spilling free from a cup that runneth over on wine. A horn blew to signal the cavalry advance and slowly they trotted forward as well. His special cavalry led by Franklyn Flowers, when Aegon gave the signal he would come down on the center. As expected if a bit messy, the levies of Lord Fell parted into a loose formation, his archers stepped up longbowmen at least two companies of a hundred men each. They knocked their arrows as commanded, and drew the bows.

When they angled their shots Beric gave the order. "Shields up!" trained and discipline the Golden Company raised their shields, their arrows flew from their bows with a dull 'thwang.' Like hard rain it fell on his men. The arrows finding very few marks, as some men fell down screaming. The Golden Company like clockwork tighten their formation to plug the gaps from any fallen soldier. The Fell longbowmen readies another volley, As they did so Aegon noticed their rear the Crossbowmen had made it to the hill. As instructed a horn sounded to signal their stop, as the company came to a halt another hail of arrows battered them dropping another score of men.

"Infantry halt!" Beric gave the command all the while holding his shield u up. They were only forty meters from Lord Fell's line. Over the Hill Black Balaq knocked bolts into their crossbows.

"Knock! Aim! Loose!" the commands followed through and the quarrels flew from their instruments. The levies with crude shields tried in vain to form a shield wall. But Crossbows were much faster than a longbow. The first volley devastated the line men fell screaming as steel met flesh in a chorus of carnage. From his vantage Aegon saw a bolt go clean through a man's eye, the time was now and Beric knew the opportunity!

"Infantry with me! Charge!" He lifted his sword and several horns blared. With a hearty yell, the companies moved as fast as their equipment would let them. the first line was met by the swordsman companies. Steel and flesh met in a display of death. Steel shone in the bright day, as the ill-equipped Levies met against discipline soldiers. The horn sounded again and Aegon resisted the urge to groan, Robert signaled the cavalry charge. Aegon would have preferred to let the enemy make the first move but Robert was eager if nothing else.

Aegon sheathed Blackfyre and grabbed a lance given to him by his squire. "Stick close, don't lose me and if you see anyone going for my flank give them a new hole to shit out of off." Aegon learned simple men like simple words, so he minced nothing fancy with the heir of Riverrun.

"Yes, my king!" Edmure was practically vibrating in his saddle.

Aegon raised his lance and roared at the top of his lungs, "With me beneath the gold, the bitter steel!" Aegon charged to the sounds of the Golden Company battlecry and steel clashing. His knights thundered across the field their horses neighing, knights shouting and the ground dug up by the hooves of their mounts. Lord Fell's Calvary reacted as expected and charged back. As they neared the knights lowered their lances for the clash. At the last possible second Aegon forced Edmure to his back, Aegon met the first knight his lance jamming into the mail shirt of his first kill. The lance pierced the mail leather and gambeson underneath before the lance snapped. The horses and men ran into each other, men flung from their saddles, some knocked other men from their saddles in their landings. The sound of horse screams drowned out the battle. Men yelled bloody murder as they clashed and men flew to the ground got trampled beneath hooves and heavy steel. The riders slowed down and the melee began, swords were drawn, others swung maces against the plate clad Golden Company knights. One of his men had his head smashed by a mace, the helm dented under the force and he fell horse on top of him. His body quickly disappeared under another and then horses trampled over them. Aegon drew Blackfyre the Valyrian steel sword caught the sun to almost shine as he swung the blade and cut down foe after foe.

Blackfyre cut down the sword bit into a man's shoulder, his mail shirt rings flung free as he cut a bloody path down and pulled the sword back out. Edmure met a man in plate and proved impressive skills to riposte the knights attack and drive his sword into his exposed neck. "With me men!" Aegon called out to rally his knights, they pushed forward Edmure to his right and another knight covered his left. Aegon hacked a bloody swath through the knights each kill had their blood splatter his black armor. A dark sheen of red began covering him his surcoat the only thing hiding the blood stains. The levies despite being barely trained held their center against Beric ongoing assault. His spearmen company formed a tight shield wall and through the gaps their spears thrust forward stabbing into gambeson and flesh. The screams of deaths became a background chorus befitting the song of war.

The sun slowly rose to mid-day after hours of fighting. Lord Fells right flank began to give way as his spearmen company pushed forward. Balaq meanwhile divided the crossbowmen to each individual flank to get a better angle and avoid the sun's glare.

"Infantry part!" Beric Dundarrions' command was shouted through the companies. The Center of their formation collapse the sides folded shields raised and the slower men caught by the now advancing Fell men. They thought this was a break after all, despite the obvious wall of shields and spears that once accosted them. The levies did not think Argon's army collapsed the center on purpose, three incredibly loud horn blares filled the air. From the hill, the special cavalry thundered across the massive beast began stomping towards the Fell center. Despite their size the beast are quite fast enough to make headway against their foes.

"By the gods, what are those?" Edmure pulled his horse back half distracted by the display.

"Elephants, native to Essos and my hidden card for this battle," Aegon swung his sword down cutting down another knight before he fell back to Edmure his men advanced and circled him to protect their king. The elephants massive in size stomped the field like no horse could. Their huge trunks swung and they blew through their trunks a sound similar to war horns. The lead elephant armored in a mail coat held Fanklyn Flowers shouted some profanities or other atop the castle on the elephant's back. A wooden box of sorts with makeshift mantlets with arrow slits. Four archers atop each plus the rider made the Golden Company's war elephants walking fortresses. The levies in vain tried raising their spears, the armored trunk just swept aside the spears like harmless branches on a tree before barreling into the Fell line. Men were tossed like wheat blown into the air. The unlucky sobs got impaled by the huge sharpened ivory tusk of the elephants before they were flung off them as the elephant shook its head.

"Flee the battle is lost!" Aegon heard the call but no retreat horn was sounded. The effect of his war elephants was all the same. Lord Fells forces broke all sense of formation was lost and his army began a full-on route. After the battle settled the dirty work started, Aegon ordered to strip the dead of anything useful. As he made the rounds he found Robert Baratheon, he had met Lord Fell in single combat and slew him which cause the route in his side of the field. Lord Fell's son who his men called Silveraxe was taken captive. Aegon as was expected gave Edmure praise for his valor in combat and ordered him to return to camp to tell the reserves to begin preparations to march out here and meet them.

Short after Lord Fell's defeat, Aegon had outriders dispatched to see where the routed army was fleeing to. Just less than two hours away Lord Craffen with an army of three thousand was marching to fight them as they spoke. Their looting and moving of bodies and wounded had to be cut short, so when Lord Craffen lined up his army again at the western side of the field. Aegon in similar formation met Lord Craffen. Even as they bared down on this new Lord word reached them of another Lord marching on their position as they spoke, Aegon with a fresh lance in hand sighed.

"It's going to be one of those bloody days." The Blackfyre king donned his helm and the battle began anew with the sounds of horns signaling the bloodbath anew.

 **Okay chapter two! I hope I improved please tell me if this is better than the last, I added more details and most certainly gave a clearer description of the field they fought on. I thought this might help with battle cohesion To answer some questions from previous comments now.**

 **Ladyres: Lyanna didn't want to marry Robert because she believed he would cheat on her, so she runs away with a married man. Glass houses eh lads? But more to the point I believe Lyanna would have done fine as Robert's wife and Lady of Storms End. Robert is bull headed but so is her, in the end if anyone thinks Lyanna would let herself be walked over or have her husband whore around. You got another thing coming, I believe Robert would change for Lyanna and she herself would have a part to play in that. Robert wasn't a monster or an evil man. So let's not get those fanfiction views of him cloud cannon Robert.**

 **Kaze: I never said quietly, like I said she told Robert her bastard lives or she doesn't marry him. If you think Ned would allow Robert to force his sister into marriage you're crazy. Anywho, I have other strong opinions on what Ned would do with a living Lyanna who confessed to running away with Rhaegar. But a two shot already exist on how I feel about that and a four-chapter story exist about how I think Lyanna would be if she hadn't run with Rhaegar. "The Realm Would Bleed." Look it up great little piece on how Lyanna would have married Robert. Also as I told the guy above, they actually would have made a decent couple once they saw they had some things in common.**


	3. Chapter 3: Ambush to Ashford

**Aegon**

 **283 A.C**

 **The Reach**

Aegon and Robert's victory at Summerhall cemented Robert's control of the Stormlands. His rebellious Bannermen taken hostage to Storms End where Robert personally talked with the Lords of Houses Fell, Cafferen and, Grandison. Aegon couldn't believe it without so much as threat Robert talked to these men and won them over to their cause. They knelt and pledge their swords to Aegon himself once done talking with Robert proclaiming him king. It was remarkable, the loyalty Robert could inspire in his men almost made Aegon jealous. When the rebel Lords pledge themselves and their men Robert massed the rest of his banners and they marched out in hopes of taking Ashford Castle from the Reach. Holding the fort would secure the Stormland flanks from the Tyrell army. A sound plan, but a dangerous one. A lengthy siege meant letting the Reach gathers its army to smash them to pieces. Their army was some six thousand strong. But hardly a fraction of the massive hundred thousand men the Reach could and would muster to utterly crush Aegon's army. Still with the hope of a quick victory Aegon marched the Golden Company along with the Stormland banners to Ashford.

As they cover ground in fairly decent time Aegon noted the rolling hills and lush grasslands all around them. The Dornish mountains laid south of their position and could be seen from afar as the clear blue sky contrasted the war going on. After a good three days of marching while camped some twenty leagues from Ashford. Aegon's outriders to the west never reported, a bad sign of things to come and a gut feeling they didn't want to be encamped when the Tyrell forces found them. Aegon met with Robert to discuss the issue and their move.

"We should leave, no castles are between here and Storm's End. But I know Stannis he will hold those walls until he dies of old age." Robert assured the gathered men. His Golden Company commanders and the Stormland lords.

"Are you confident they will not pursuit?" Aegon was still foreign to this land he meant to conquer. The lords would need to be met so he could properly get a reading on their character. So Aegon had little choice but to trust Roberts judgement of Mace Tyrell.

"Randyl Tarly? Yes, he'll hunt us like a hound hunts the fox, but Mace Tyrell is a lick spittle and he prefers the "symbolic" victory and will march on Storms End." Robert tapped the map between them and made a line towards his ancestral home. Their camp was on an open field with constant patrols and outriders to warn them of incoming armies. After the loss of their last riders Aegon sent bigger groups and spread them farther apart.

"Very well let's march north and regroup with our allies." Aegon concluded, "Prepare the men we march at dawn double time." Aegon ordered his commanders, Stormlords included bowed their heads and left to prepare. In Column formation, the rebel army packed up and began their track north. The feeling they were being followed bothered Aegon too much. He decided to bring up the rear their most vulnerable place and sent his outriders with some skirmishers. About thirty leagues from the Blueburn river, Aegon's scouts didn't report back in like the last ones. A pit formed in Aegon's stomach, he was riding along their army on the left flank. He left the task to guard their right to his eager squire Edmure, while Ser Tristan Rivers guarded the middle with now Ser Beric Dundarrion. The man earned knighthood for his valiant capture of Lord Grandison, that now held the rear. Riding out from the line he found a hill that overlooked the plains west. The soft spring air cooled his face as he lifted his visor for a better view. As far as the land stretched with the grass sea, reminding him of the Dothraki sea. The wind caressed the grass swaying gently. A small meadow filled with dandelions threaten to fly away from the winds gentle probes. With such a view, a man might forget he was at war. Aegon removed his helm wiping the sweat from wearing the damn thing for hours of marching. He grabbed his water skin from his saddle and took a greedy gulp, some water spilling down to his gambeson underneath. The water felt cool as it ran along his sweaty chest. With a final look Aegon was about ready to turn when he saw them. Rather Aegon could hear them, his army marched to a dull thud of footfalls but this, this was different, he could hear uneven steps, his rear was mostly composed of Golden Company men, his men wouldn't march out of step if you cut a different foot on each man. Squinting across the distance he noticed green, not the grass but green cloth he could not make out the sigil but it mattered little. Carrying the sigils were knights, the gods be good thousands of them lined the horizon and they were on a full-on charge. Aegon wiped his mouth and licked his lips. He donned his helm time was short the heavy cavalry would decimate their column and route their army.

"Ranks! Form ranks to the west cavalry!" Aegon rode back shouting his visor left up to give clear orders.

"Move it lads come on shield wall! shield wall!" the golden company scrambled, as good as they were they were only human and the unexpected attack left them scrambling. Aegon quickly rode behind the forming ranks Blackfyre drawn he pointed to the West as his men dropped their packs and gear in favor of weapons. All around commands and men trying to form up filled the once quiet march.

"Come on lock the shields! No gaps"

"Pikes find the fucking carts with the pikes dole them out!"

"No gaps solid wall! Stormlanders shore up with us come on!"

"Fuck the pikes, get the lances use them hurry up!"

Aegon had the trumpeter blow the horn for the army to stop, several more horns sounded across the column. The damn ground itself shook threatening to tear apart as the Tyrell Vanguard grew closer. The yell of their men drowning out the yells of commands as thousands of knights roared with fire in their hearts. Aegon was at the back, he flipped his visor down and gave his men the best courage the Golden Company got.

"Beneath the gold, the bitter steel!" Aegon raised Blackfyre his men roared and the Tyrell struck. The first ranks were smashed and men yelled, lances tore into them and in return their spears skewered the horses and riders. The mass of beast and men broken two more ranks as men went under before the Tyrell vanguard broke well into the fourth rank before the impact was dissipated. Aegon fought the first knight that came near him. His surcoat gave away who he was if the black armor and sword didn't already. It seemed it made him popular as every glory hungry fool went after him. Aegon rode them down Blackfyre danced a flash of steel as he cut a knight across the chest the sound of his breastplate parting for his sword a horrible screech. His sword bit into another knight splitting his helm and head in two. The blood spurt onto his horse and armor. He cut down two more knights but they kept coming worst they tried to encircle him.

"To the king lads come on!" the company to the left barely holding together broke the back ranks and tried to circle him. His men were run down as the knights on horseback easily surrounded them.

"For king Aegon!" Edmure, surprisingly loud voice broke through the clash of steel and dying men. He rallied the Golden Company knights around him and they smashed into the Tyrell flank cutting a bloody swath towards him. Aegon turned his horse and rode back, Blackfyre a blur in his skilled hands as he cut down the Tyrell knights that encircled him. He grunted when mace dented his breastplate, but he pushed knight stabbed at the back of his leg and the mail gave way wounding him as a good three inches of sword made it past. Aegon brought down Blackfyre on the offending knights arm cutting it off. The knight's horse got blood on its eyes and it raised to its hind legs knocking the rider off before another horse hit it and knocked the other knight with it. Aegon suffered another wound as a lance pierced his breastplate at his right side. Aegon yelled and pushed onward until Edmure came in and stabbed his sword through a knight exposed neck. Aegon bent down had exposed his own neck and nearly lost his head for the trouble.

"The King is wounded protect him!" Edmure's command was quickly followed his men not caring who gave it and they formed a shield around him. With a bloody yell Aegon pulled the lance free and thanked the gods the tip was still there. He wouldn't want metal in his body especially if the battle dragged preventing him from cleaning his wounds. Aegon shook his head and turned his horse, the Tyrell Vanguard had isolated his forces. Individual pockets of resistance were all keeping the Tyrell men from overwhelming his small knight contingency. That Aegon could count Edmure brought about a hundred knights. They cut a swath to reach him but the Tyrell knights were trying to encircle his men. Aegon lifted his visor to shout orders.

"With me lads, with me!" Aegon powered through the pain and rode out with his knights at his back. Even injured he cut men down as they fought their way out of the encirclement. His right flank quickly fell when some Reachmen charged lances down crashing against them. his men fell screaming with their horses. Aegon kicked his beast to ride harder and faster, his sword arm growing tired as he hacked at the Tyrell men. Despite his efforts his men were bogged down and lost much of the rallied knights making it outside the encirclement. Doing so Aegon rode to the rolling hills to see his broken company scattered and being rundown. It was over, his heart clenched in one swift move was his campaign doomed to end? To make matters worse from the rear out rode a knight. He held aloft the head of Lord Grandison. With him was a banner a hunter on a green field. He recognized the banner as none other than Randyl Tarly. The man tossed the head to one of his men, then pointed west and the knight left them riding in said direction.

The air stood seem to stop, he watched the helmed head of Randyl Tarly looked his direction and his depleted band of knights. For the first time in his life Aegon cursed the black dragon emblazoned on his surcoat. "Shit" Aegon muttered as the Reach lord quickly charged at them. Aegon turned and gathered his knights towards the north he found a barely held together company of spearmen. They held together in tight formation with the faintest of hopes Aegon charged towards them.

"The king comes, right flank open!" The formation opened to allow him entrance, a narrow path would make it slow for his knights to enter one by one. Edmure Tully and the rest slowed down and turned near the formation. Aegon entered and turned his horse safely behind his spearmen. With proper breathing room, he saw the remaining of his southern column collapse into anarchy. Six companies each around a hundred men each decimated into nothing. Farther off he could see his forces routing for the hills before being ran down by Reach knights. From Aegon's previous position Randyl Tarly and his knights charged, full gallop swords raised the knights coated in blood, his men's blood.

Edmure lifted his visor yelling towards him, "Your Grace! Stand fast!" he slammed his visor down and held his sword high. _Fool_ Aegon wanted to yell as Edmure with less than a hundred knights charged. "Beneath the gold, the bitter steel!" he threw the Golden Company war cry without really understanding it. But it served its purpose, his men fearlessly charged against the heavy Reach center. Aegon lifted his visor to breathe and command his men.

"Tighten up! Spears up!" Aegon pointed Blackfyre towards the Reach knights. As his men surrounded him. Just as his men braced Edmure's charged broke against the heavy Reach numbers. Edmure disappeared into the mass of men and beast as both sides lost men to the foolhardy but bloody courageous charge. Despite Edmure's effort the rest of the Reach knights charged with Randyl Tarly at their head. Randyl's knights hit Aegon's first line. Horses were skewered by spears and the first five ranks were crushed or run down by the knights. "Hold! No quarter lads no quarter!" Aegon encouraged his men, but footmen weren't a match against these many knights in plate armor. Aegon's center buckled his men fell as knights cut them down Aegon rode forward tired but adrenaline keeping him going. He pushed forward brandishing Blackfyre he cut the first knight down a slash across his chest. The next hit Aegon's right arm, he reeled back and almost fell from his horse. Taking Blackfyre with both hands he brought it down cutting a knight's skull in two. Aegon leaned left barely missing a mace meant to knock his block off, he turned his horse and killed another knight stabbing Blackfyre into his gut. Pulling the sword back Aegon traded blows with two more knights who battered his breastplate with maces before he cut them down. Just then Randyl Tarly in full plate burst through and hacked at Aegon's head. The young man leaned back just barely keeping his head as Randyl went past him. Aegon turned his horse with a last glance at his men barely pushing against the knights on his left and right flanks. Randyl Tarly brought down his two-handed great sword with one hand. Aegon brought Blackfyre and the swords bit into each other. A loud cling, followed by a low pitch screech like a wailing woman. Aegon grit his teeth the sound cutting into his very body. Through the blood Aegon took notice the black swirls on Randyl Tarly's sword. Valyrian Steel, Aegon licked his lips and the two traded swords each clash resonated across the battlefield itself as the swords wailed like women cradling their dead babes in their arms.

A trumpet cut through the sounds of their battle. Aegon watched to the north a sea of yellow banners fell as Robert Baratheon brought down their full force of their cavalry. At the front, their War elephants lead the charge. As the horns brought the harbingers of Aegon's salvation the war elephants smashed into Randyl Tarly's flank the knights in full plate got tossed aside. Aegon traded another blow with Randyl Tarly and the Lord broke off he rode away behind him and his knights disengaged.

"With me! With me now for the Reach!" Randyl Tarly led a counter charge, his men rallied inspired and he doubled back around to hit Robert's flank. Trumpets blared and Robert clearly expected this and his flank broke off to meet Randyl Tarlys counter charge.

"Your Grace!" Edmure rode up beside him, with him eight knights remained. Aegon fought with those men in Essos all his life. To see their once proud force reduced to this, he swallowed the lump in his throat. There would be time to honor the fallen, now was not it.

"I'm glad you're alive, now let's regroup and save what's left of our army." Aegon rode out his tired horse protested but did as bid. Aegon rounded the battle heading north, he passed the sea of knights and horses, broken footmen desperately holding out. The division between Baratheon and Golden Company clear as the Baratheon footmen desperately tried to run while the Golden Company held firm despite their mounting losses. Aegon finally rounded behind the battle and double back, he went for the center the Baratheon knights party to allow him entrance he made it to the front to catch Robert smash some Tarly knight while he was on foot. The fool was on foot! Horses and men all around and he didn't even try to fall back to get another horse. "Robert!" Aegon rode up beside the Stormlord and newfound respect for such a magnificent warrior.

"Shit you are alive! We aren't lost yet hah!" Robert bellowed out a belly laugh and took a knee as a Reach knight broke through to kill Robert. The Stormlord swung his hammer breaking the horses front leg launching the knight forward. Robert turned when the knight his helm fell it was a young boy. He stood drew his sword and Robert smashed his chest with the spike at the end of it and the young knight fell hissing for breath. Robert shattered his breastplate in a single blow. The Baratheon Lord didn't follow through the knight said something, he couldn't make it out before Robert a grim expression drew the dirk in his belt and pierced the young knights heart where his hammer breached the breastplate. Aegon drew closer and the Baratheon Lord looked up and drew a smile.

"I think Tarly got us with our breeches down and both hands our cocks." Robert gave a wry grin and opened his helm.

"Aye, I don't think Tarly has the men to fight us off once we rally-" Aegon was interrupted, horns blew to the West stretching across the horizon hundreds of banners line the sight. The Tyrell host had arrived with the footmen.

"Milord!" a squire clearly a commoner by the way he pronounced the title rode up with a spare horse.

"Piss on that, I know when were fucked, even before the fat flower of Highgarden came around. We must retreat, let's go!" Robert mounted his horse and moved to rally the men. Aegon rode after the Stormlord as he did so he looked to his right Randyl Tarly leading another charge rode around one of their War elephants. He brought out his Valyrian Steel sword cut into the beast's flesh. The iron rings of the mail cover flew off and blood splattered. The elephant went up on its hind legs, the added weight of the castle atop helped to topple him. All around the elephants began falling in similar manner as the knights figured to cut the beast feet. The battle was over, they would stand to lose everything if they remained.

"with me! Fall back lads fall back live today to win glory another day!" Robert's battlefield voice boomed followed by the trumpeters signaling a retreat. Their army began a full retreat as orderly as possible considering the Tyrell Vanguard nipping at their heels. Robert broke from Aegon and led another countercharge forcing Randyl Tarly and his tired forces to fall back from Robert's fresh and War elephant led charge. With the Tyrell army falling back Aegon regrouped with their front column. Their time was short Mace Tyrell would march after them as soon as he got his host in order. Quickly Aegon began shouting commands to reform in into proper ranks. Any cart not holding important enough supplies that broke down was to be left behind. The supplies distributed among the men to carry. Aegon meanwhile was sitting on a crate as a measte looked him over.

Edmure, hell after today Aegon gladly knighted him with Blackfyre the young Tully heir knelt a squire and rose a knight before Aegon. Ser Edmure stood near with some Golden Company knights the men having form a kinship in battle. Aegon grimaced and chugged more wine to try and dull the pain, as his wound was stitched up.

"You're lucky your grace, any deeper and the knight would be renowned as the man who killed the rebel king." The maester smirked wryly.

"True King," Edmure quipped scowling at the measter.

Aegon waved away the unnecessary reprisal, "Ah if I was lucky I wouldn't have been pricked in the first place." Aegon sighed when the maester finished and wrapped fresh bandages around his waist.

"Alright, I must see to the other men, if we are to march soon we need to be as fast as possible. Keep it dry and change the bandages every two hours." The maester turned to leave wiping his hands with a rag.

"Maester can I ride? I can't lead from a cart flat on my back." Aegon stood and tested out his mobility.

"Ah your wounds will take more time to heal, but yes you can ride just remember to change the bandages, and don't use the breastplate." The maester, bowed and left them to tend to the wounded. They rested just enough to let their wounded settled and reform their forces. They crossed the Blueburn river and marched for a day straight. Under the night Robert forced a hard march until the morning. They slept for maybe some four hours before departing again.

"The Tryells have ceased pursuit, but we can't sigh our relief." Aegon grumbled, a rider from the north found them earlier in the day. Aegon read the parchment of the message he bore, skipping the part about his wife, Catelyn's pregnancy. "Jon Conningotn is assembling the Royal host outside Kings Landing.

"He's going to try and intercept us, we won't make it to Riverrun Ned is still marching south from the Neck." Robert scratched his face, like himself he was bandaged up when led the countercharge he was wounded and not battle ready.

"Well, I think we need to hunker down and wait." Aegon smirked stroking his chin soft stubble growing from the time they started the war.

"Aye and Connington will graciously decide to wait out for Ned to arrive." Robert cross his arms flinching slightly when he brushed up against a fresh wound.

"No, but he can take his time searching for us here." Aegon pointed on the map, Robert blinked then smirked, with that decided. The two left to prepare the army, it was close but it would still be a hard march. Outside Edmure came to Aegon to help him prepare for the march ahead.

"If we march hard enough we can make it to Riverrun in a fortnight your grace." Edmure offhandedly commented.

"No, we aren't going to Riverrun Jon Connington is gathering a sizable royal host, he's no doubt as we speak marching to intercept us." Aegon explained and entered his tent to find his parchment to send back with the rider sent his way.

"Oh? Where is our destination then?" Edmure went to the table nearby and poured himself and Aegon wine from the flagon on the table.

Aegon turned to Edmure a small smile on his face, "To the Stoney Sept," the dragon king sat down and wrote to inform his cousin their intended plan.

 **Okay so, at this point I feel I'm in the deep, I added more detail and expanded on the battlefield tactics. I'm going to call this a short story and finish it with a bit more plot added. Please tell me if this is better written then the last battle. I also hope it was more visceral and conveyed the butchery of mediaeval warfare. Aegon and Robert got flanked by the Tyrell Vanguard led by Randyl Tarly. The efficient way in which Tarly blinded Aegon and Robert by killing his outriders was nothing short of brilliant and expected of the Reach's best soldier. Not to mention I had to show how much of a bad ass Randyl was by having him singlehandedly kill a war elephant.**

 **But I digress once more please REVIEW I want to know how the battle unfolded was. Did it unfold naturaly where you confused about movements? Did I make the sides clear? I need to know to improve. So hopefully you guys drop me a review on how this went.**

 **After this my second attempt at a town battle will be coming up. The Battle of the Bells, I for the most part followed cannon. This battle will have a divergence, a big one in fact. Let's see where it goes. It goes against the notes of the first chapter, but it should be fine. Anyways I hope if nothing else this is enjoyable to read. Again, tell me how the battle scenes are this is the sole reason this story exist!**


	4. Chapter 4: Battle of the Bells

**Valerion**

 **283 A.C**

 **Riverlands**

Valerion stroked his chin, his youthful features hardened by a light beard on his face. He leaned against the battlements of Riverrun. The might of the Vale, the North, and Riverland sprawled before the Tully fort. Banners from knights and lords from all walks of life gathered as one. In all his life of waging war, Velarion had never been these many men under their banner. The Golden Company had stood as the bulwark of so many of the free cities, and their slave armies were trivial in comparison. Despite the impressive sight, it only served to emphasize his boredom. Waiting was never Velarions strong suit that went to his uncle and cousin. Today was the fifth time today he was walking the battlements.

In truth, he'd be deep in his cups to make the waiting more bearable, but he could ill afford a hangover should they move tomorrow, or the day after that. The only other thing he could do to pass the time was fucking the serving girls. He'd already done that and grown bored of them three times over. Pushing off the battlements, the prince punched his open palm. While he remained here, Aegon and Robert were out there winning glory. Velarion regretted not driving his desire to go with Aegon and Robert. He wasn't king, and he didn't command anything important enough to miss his absence.

"My Prince," a soft voice broke his train of thought.

Velarion looked to find his cousins' wife and queen. Velarion bowed his head to his newest family member, "Your Grace, what can I do for you?"

"Please, we are family, call me Catelyn," the pretty redhead offered a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Valerion was good at telling seeing through a forced smile for the sake of propriety or hiding grief.

"As you wish Catelyn," Valerion's response was as rigid as his stance. He bore no ill will to Catelyn, but she was an outsider to him. It also didn't help he never entertained a woman he didn't intend to bed.

"yes," Catelyn looked down, clasping her hands together, "the gathered Lords request your presence in the Great Hall, I volunteered to fetch you." Catelyn curtsied then left promptly.

Valerion sighed if nothing else he hoped he hadn't slighted her. But his presence in the war council was peculiar. With a shrug, he made his way to the war council.

Upon entering the Great Hall of Riverrun, he was greeted by several Lords sitting at a table together. On the far left, his father and uncle sat beside an empty chair. When his uncle saw him, he gestured to the empty seat at the head of the table. Velarion pursed his lips, that was the Kings spot, in this case, the Hand of the King's place. His uncle should be on that seat, so with trepidation, he sat at the head of the table as asked.

"My Lords." Velarion nodded as he took his seat. The Lords merely nodded at his presence.

"With my nephew here, we can begin the meeting for our plan of attack." Valerion's uncle ran his hands down his tunic. "Lord Stark, you said your men have news of my son the King?"

Lord Stark, Valerion never met the Lord properly, with the chaos of Gulltown and the hasty departure of men he had been busier preparing to march for Riverrun. The northern Lord long faced and seemingly as cold as his home spoke. "Yes, King Aegon and Lord Robert's forces were ambushed by Mace Tyrells knights. They suffered heavy losses and made a hasty retreat north to the Stoney Sept."

"That's it?" Valerion's indignant tone made everyone turned their heads at him.

"Aye, that's all the King sent in reply." Lord Stark nodded.

"Is the King alive?" Velarion demanded, his voice rising.

"The letter we received was in his hand. I would assume so." Lord Stark grabbed a piece of parchment from the table and tossed it back down.

"Good, we waste time here, when do we march." Velarion perched his head on his closed fist.

"On your command nephew." Valerion's uncle raised his hand, "before you order a march, listen to the council."

Valerion pursed his lips, "very well, though why am I to determine the army's movement?" A valid question, even when fighting in Essos he oversaw a company of Knights at most. Moving an entire army was a far different calling than a hundred knights.

"By order of the King, until his wife bares him a son, he has declared you his heir. Should the worst happen, you will sit the Iron Throne." The mere thought made his stomach drop. To lose his cousin now so close to victory was a terrifying thought.

"Your Grace, the King did not specify our action while he heads for the Stoney Sept. However, If I know Robert, he had a hand in this and why they chose the Stony Sept." Lord Eddard stood back up to speak further. "If we allow the Loyalist to give chase, we can catch them in a double envelopment at the Stoney Sept, cut off their retreat and smash their army piecemeal."

"Robert Baratheon doesn't strike me as a man who doesn't give battle. If both of them agreed to flee, their situation must be dire. We should march now and intercept them. We can Garrison the Stoney sept if need be." Valerion argued, he was not about to bet on the life of his cousin.

"No, we can't afford a siege, not with the Lannister still on the fence, and if rumors are true, the Tyrells are marching to lay siege to Storms End. Back against the walls, the Lannisters can march here and smash us." Valerion's father, Maelys, banged his gauntlet on the table.

"It seems the course put forth by Lord Stark is the wisest my prince." Jon Arryn stood next.

"A king should take the words of his counsel to heart, my dear nephew." Daeron bowed his head, "what is your decision?"

The entire table of Lords looked expectantly at their prince. Damn it all; I didn't ask for this kind of power. I let Aegon take the throne so I wouldn't! Valerion closed his eyes; his cousin was always the better strategist. If Robert Baratheon suggested this and his brother went along, this had to be his wish. To not write down his intentions in case of the message being intercepted meant he trusted him to make the right call. Sighing, the Prince stood giving his Lords a measured stare. "How long until my Cousin reaches the Stoney Sept?"

"We can't estimate the losses, but all together if they decided to abandon the Elephants, two weeks," Father suggested.

"They will be marching hard, and the Loyalist will be at their heels, one week, Robert will make sure of it if not the King." Lord Eddard added.

"Very well, we will march in two weeks, have outriders report any movements on our enemy and my cousin." Valerion placed his hand on the pommel of his sword. "Will there be anything else my Lords?"

"No my prince, let us prepare for war." Uncle Dearon stood, and all other Lords followed suit, they bowed to Valerion and left the council room. Father, patted Valerion's and smiled proudly at him.

"You have made us proud Valerion, as will be your cousin when you meet him again." Uncle Daeron smiled and ruffled Valerions hair.

Valerion chuckled, "I only want to make sure we all make it to the end of this war." Valerion took his leave and left to prepare for the battle.

The Stoney Sept laid before Velarion, clad in black armor sword at his hand atop a massive black warhorse. He watched the town on a hill in the north. The place was built on a hill, the Sept from its namesake protrude at the top. A fort lay beneath the Sept, and outside the walls was the encamped loyalist army. At the crest of the hill, hidden from their enemies, Valerion's army awaited his command.

A Single rider approached from the back ranks, "My Prince, we are ready, their scouts are dead, now is the time to strike." The young man clad in a hauberk with a Mallister surcoat grinned enthusiastically at him. Valerion merely nodded, and the young man returned to the back lines. Lord Eddard silently rode up to him. He had a great sword strapped to his back, while he kept a long sword at his hip. Valerion held his sword out for Eddard who grabbed it. The black Prince donned his helm and took his sword back. "A good day for battle, sun high in the sky, dry field and our enemies are unaware."

"Aye, your grace." Lord Stark nodded, he donned silver plate with a white surcoat with his Direwolf on his breast.

"Won't be using that?" Velarion pointed to Eddard's sword at his back.

"…" Stark hummed his eyes looked far away for a moment, "aye," he responded. "When the time comes."

"Good, Valyrian steel is meant to be used, not gathering dust in a scabbard," Valerion smirked at the shocked look on the Lords face.

"You know?" Stark looked away as if abashed.

"I saw it back at camp, why do you not wish to draw it?" Valerion set his eyes south, watching the enemy camp. Soon, he knew when the battle had to happen years of fighting let him know the right moment to strike.

"Ice was my brothers," Stark's face twisted into pain, "as was Winterfell."

"I understand, though I hope it does not become so for me, Blackfyre and the Seven Kingdoms are my cousin's." Valerion offered a sympathetic look to the northerner.

"Aye let's make it so," Stark donned his helm and lowered his visor, leaving no more room for conversation.

As their conversation ended, a stillness in the air overcame Velarion. He felt his fingers tingle, and his horse snorted beneath him. This was it; the moment was just right for battle. Velarion raised his sword and looked back. Lances raised the men awaited his command, Velarion lowered his visor and swung his sword down. "Beneath the gold, the bittersteel!" Velarion rushed forward, and the army followed behind. Hundreds upon hundreds of mounted knights at his back.

A sea of cloth overtook the green pastures, banners of all kinds danced in the wind. The ground shook as the mounted knights tore the ground beneath them. The bells inside the town started to ring at least forty meters before Velarion's front line reached the Loyalist camp. The bells would toll the last sound of many men today.

Valerion's Vanguard rushed between the tents of the camp. The black prince hacked his way through panicked men, riding down those who got in front of his horse. Lord Stark's once pristine white surcoat quickly reddened with blood, his sword flashing in the sun as he guarded Velarion's flank. The attack had the desired effect. The Black Prince stopped with a score of knights around him. He lifted his visor to survey the situation.

The Loyalist had given up putting up any resistance. The bulk of their force was fleeing into the town, the rest hurled themselves at the Blackwater Rush to a second encampment, hurriedly strengthening their position. "There are more men than we anticipated!" Velarion shouted to no one in particular, but I didn't matter, the rest of their footmen would arrive soon.

"We need to give the rest of the forces time; I'll lead half the Van to attack the other camp, Your Grace find the King!" Lord Hoster Tully, one of the many men around him said.

"Make it so Lord Hoster!" Valerion yelled, Lord Hoster quickly gathered the knights in his procession along with a sizeable force of Vale and Northmen. The Riverlord charged into the Blackwater his hastily assembled host right behind him.

"With me to the town!" Velarion rushed forward with the rest of the Vanguard at his heels. His men entered through the southern gate. Turnover carts had hastily blocked the main street. At the barricade, crossbowmen aimed at his men. "Shite, hold!" Velarion shouted, reining his horse in. The sudden stop caused a few horses to trip over each other. The Black Prince's knights might as well have painted targets on themselves for the action. Several bolts pelted their confused front line. A good score of men fell from their horses. Velarion by pure chance had only lost his horse from a bolt through its eye.

The Black Prince dove off his horse, landing hard on the ground his armor rattling. Stark dismounted and smacked his horse reared, sending into an alley. "Come on!" He helped Velarion to his feet, the Prince's sword lost on the scuffle. The two stumbled into the alley Starks horse fled down. No sooner had they found refuge; a second volley struck down more of Valerion's men.

"From behind!" the shout of men and clashing steel rang in the air. Velarion chanced a glance around the corner. The crossbowmen had turned their attention behind them loosening bolts at an unseen enemy.

"Now is our chance," Velarion turned to Stark, the Northern Lord offered him his Longsword. Velarion nodded, taking it. Lord Stark unsheathed his Valyrian steel sword, the Smokey blade with ripples like ripples on water. Even after seeing Blackfyre most of his life, seeing the ancient blade's edge never ceased to amaze Velarion. If only Darksister were not lost to them, he might have claimed it for his own.

But now was not the time for such thoughts, he steeled himself and ran out back to the street sword held aloft. "Dismount, we take the town on foot!" Velarion regrouped his men with Stark at his side. The rest of his force under the command of Lord Jon Arryn and his heir Ser Denys Arryn took to the battlements. With the gathered force coming behind him, the Black Prince charged forward.

Valerion was the first to reach the barricade; he climbed over the carts tricky footing. He made it to the top stabbing a distracted crossbowman in the back. Stark was next and cleaved a man in twain with his greatsword. A small battle followed, with Valerion's sword dancing between axes, and maces killing five men in two minutes. Such was his prowess; he bought enough time for Stark to help more of their knights climb the obstruction.

The Black Prince took stock of the situation, and utter chaos was the only way to describe the madness before him. Men were fighting in disorganized melee across the town square. At the center, the trout fountain's water ran crimson as men fought knee deep in the stained water. Bodies of the unfortunate floated in the water. Skirmishes raged wherever men could find the footing, and the roofs were no exception with men falling to their deaths to the street. It was among this chaos Velarion was to find his brother, an impossible task to be sure. He needed to rally the men fighting for him, but with the disorder, he could barely recognize the Golden Company soldiers, let alone Baratheon's men.

An idea struck him, Valerion saw a body slumped beneath the barricade. A spear to the back had done the poor sod in. Quickly, he cut his surcoat off his body.

"My Prince?" Stark looked on confused.

"We won't get anywhere if we don't regroup." Velarion hopped down the barricade. He retrieved the spear and made a hasty banner. The Black Prince handed the standard to nearby Knight.

Valerion readied his sword as Stark, and his knights gathered around him, "ready to go again?" Velarion smacked Starks arm playfully.

"Once more into the breach!" Velarion did not miss the mirth in the Lords' voice. It turns out there was a warrior in him after all, not just the sullen man he saw at Riverrun.

The Knights under Valerion's command charged driving a wedge in the chaos leading to the fountain. Stark's sword cut men down in groups. The Valyrian steel sword cut through flesh and armor like air. Neither bone nor steel would stop the blade when Stark cleaved men to pieces. Their foes gave Stark a wide berth fearing the backswing of the beastly sword. The Smokey blade ran dark red in the afternoon sun, and Velarion knew he would claim the most lives by the end of this battle.

"The King, the King, is here!" a voice shouted, bringing a rallying force to Valerion. Valerion clad in black armor reached the fountain with his men spreading around to circle him. The Black Prince sheathed his sword and took the banner from his knight. He climbed the trout facsimile standing on the stone tail he raised the flag to stand out before the men.

"For King Aegon!"

"Protect the King lads!"

"Beneath the Gold the Bittersteel!" Several more chants brought men to Valerion's gathering force. The banner had made people think he was his cousin. Good, The Black Prince thought, this might help relieve the pressure from his cousin.

Valerion climbed from the statue giving the banner back to the knight. Pushing his growing advantage, he made to clear the town square and make a rallying point for their combined force. Valerion chose the main path north leading to the Sept and Fort. Having Stark at his side, he ordered Starks bannerman Roose Bolton to take a score of their knights and whatever foot from the Golden Company and Baratheon banners he could muster and secure the eastern road. Lord Yohn Royce, not needing the order began hacking his way east with his retinue of knights.

The Black Prince cut a swath through the poorly organized loyalist. Stark by this point was coated head to toe in the blood of their foes. He made for a grim sight, so much, so the loyalist was purposefully refusing to engage him directly. Stark once killing men one after the other, was now barely fighting anyone. Few men dared to try him, all of them who did fell. Velarion and his men made good pace driving back the loyalist to the street.

Stark pulled back, allowing his entourage to cover them while he approached Valerion. Ned lifted his visor panting for air, "your grace!" he swallowed before continuing, "We should hold here your grace, wait for the foot, and scour the streets on their arrival."

Valerion's blood was boiling, his heart pounding against his ears, and his entire body felt tingly as he practically bounced in place. "What? Stark was driving them back; we push our advantage! Give them no pause to gather their strength!" Valerion shouted back.

"Your Grace!" Deaf ears met Stark's call. Valerion slapped his visor down and pushed Starks men aside flashing his sword cutting down his foes. Valerion pushed up the streets, his force pooling into the alleys, continuing the fight for each step taken. Their push led them to an open area of the circular cobbled path. The loyalist army broke, Valerion grinned like a madman when he saw his foes run back to the hill fort.

"You see Stark!" The Black Prince pounded his gauntlet against his breastplate. "Cowards the lot of them, broken beneath our might!" Valerion spread his arms. He marched forward his men cheering him on arms raised in the air his makeshift banner waving at his back. Valerion spun his sword and made to push to the fort. Valerion's victory was all but assured, taking down the Griffin Banners on the Fort would be the final cut against his foes.

"Archers, archers!" Valerion registered the yell a bit too late. He looked up; dozens of men lined the roofs circling his force. The volley of arrows flew, and Valerion went down. He felt a crushing weight on his back and searing pain on the right side of his face. A loud snap rattled in his helmet, a sharp thrusting pain followed it. Then darkness descended on Valerion.

 **Eddard**

"Valerion!" Ned shouted when he was brought down to a knee. A score of his Northmen surrounded him with shields up as arrows thwacked against the guards. Ethan Glover was knelt over Ned using himself as a shield. Ned tapped his companions' shoulder, and he was allowed back onto his feet. Ned dared to lift his visor to scour the battlefield. He spotted Valerion's banner, but he could not see the Black Prince. Ned slammed his visor down and grabbed Ice in a white-knuckle grip.

"Valerion!" Ned shouted a third time, as he began hacking his way towards his companion. The Loyalist had lost their previous fear of him, they came at him with frenzied might, but neither shield nor armor could withstand Ice's edge. Knight, a man at arms, it matters not, they could not hope to match the Valyrian Steel in his hands. Leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, Ned made it to the front under a barrage of arrows and slowly being pushed back into the main road. He found a group of knights holding their fallen liege. A broken arrow shaft stuck in Valerion's visor. Ned felt his heart stop and the grip on his sword loosened.

"…" Valerion moved, shaking his head a little, though Ned was sure he spoke he could not hear him over the battle. Ned knelt by the fallen prince lifting his visor. "Aegon, Aegon I can't see." The prince muttered through agonized sobs. Ned looked up and cursed ducking as another volley pelted them followed by screams.

"We can't stay here!" Ned stood and took command of the situation. "Fall back, take Valerion to the Center!" Ned ushered the Knights to the back carrying their prince. They began giving ground as orderly as they could. Ned had the better-armored knights hold the front while those carrying shields formed a canopy around Valerion and the knights now forming his guard. Ned kept making repeated excursions to their receding line wherever it looked like they were threatening to break. By the time they made it halfway out of the opened center, the loyalist front parted. From the Fort sallied out a score of knights flying the griffon banner of house Connington. Ned cursed and pushed back to Valerion. "Go, make way for you liege!" Ned pushed their men aside to make way for Valerion.

"Brace!" Ned heard his men yell; he turned to see the mounted knights smash into his front line. His men fell beneath the attacking horses trampled beneath their significant weight. Mark Ryswell grasped his arm and moved him aside when the Knights cut through to their position.

"Valerion!" Ned tried to go back as bloody mas the idea was. But Mark and more of his men held him back. Through a haze of men and horses, he caught a glimpse of a black armored man shuffling down an opposite alley.

"Look out!" Ned heard Ethan shout, followed by the clash of steel. Ned cursed his sword struck out, stabbing a man in his belly. Ned the put a hand beneath the grip of his pummel and pulled it up splitting the man belly to head. He urged ahead the narrow alley making him stick to stabbing and short quick slashes with Ice. He stabbed a knight through the heart and kicked him off Ice the motion allowed him a second to look behind him. A mounted knight with a griffon on his chest barreled through the street and knocked Ned aside into a house. While he was down a man came in after him. Ned, with great effort, swung Ice with one hand cutting the man's arms at the elbow. He screamed, falling, staring at the stumps of his arms. Ned offered him some small mercy and cut his head off. More men came in after him, and Ned fled up the house stairs. He was growing tired, fighting alone without his companions was asking for death. He reached the top first. A wardrobe was at the top of the stairs against the railing. Using the added weight of his armor, Ned slammed his shoulder against the closet and pushed it into the stairs. A man yelled as crushed beneath the wardrobe. The Lord of Winterfell grabbed Ice underhanded and stabbed through the wardrobe silencing the man. Pulling the sword back, Ned looked about the room.

A window, he moved to it, and he was able to climb the ceiling. Ned climbed out of the limit and stood the highest point on the roof. He stabbed Ice into the ground to anchor himself, lifting his visor Ned watched a great deal of the battles. By the old gods, how much death could they keep sowing here today? Ned had been far too busy fighting to pay much attention to anything that wasn't attacking Valerion's flank. Now with some breathing room, he could guess where Aegon and Robert where in this chaos.

"Die!" Ned turned surprised; a man came ax swinging for his head. Ned ducked beneath the swing bring Ice up for a cut. The man stepped back and lifted his shaft in defense. Behind him, more men jumped up to the roof, not even one of the allies. Ned turned and fled jumping to the nearest house, thankfully packed close enough that the added weight of his armor didn't impede his jump. Making it up to the curve of the next building, Ned turned and swung ice. He caught the first attacker unaware of cutting his head off.

Ned continued moving, to the next house, only to find five men fighting on it. He picked out Baratheon colors, yellow and green. Ned jumped to the roof and killed two of the men fighting Robert's men. The men pursuing him jumped and immediately clashed blades with each other. Ned killed two men before the ax wielder from before tried him again. He was good, enough to make Ned miss several swings and force him back. Ned blocked one strike after the other. He swatted the ax cutting the shaft and dropping the head. The bastard didn't give the Northener the chance to finish him. The burly fool tackled Ned, and the two went over the bent of the roof.

Ned's back contacted the roof, and the ceiling beneath him gave way. He barely got to scream when he landed on a soft bed that broke beneath their weight. The initial impact on the roof rung Ned's bell. His vision was blurry. He just felt a burden on his waist trapping him. The shade perched atop him drew both hands back, Ned feebly lifted his hand. A black shadow fell over his face, and he saw no more.

 **Aegon**

"Seven hells!" Jenny jumped, Aegon had just fitted the last piece of his armor when the roof caved, and Jenny leaped into his arms. A man coated in blood crashed against the bed on the far corner. There was a second man, presumably responsible for both falling through the roof. Aegon drew Blackfyre while the man atop drew a dirk from his belt. Aegon stepped on something. He looked down to a massive Valyrian steel sword. Instantly Ageon knew who the fallen man was, Aegon grabbed his black cloak covering Jenny. He ripped it off her body and threw it at the Lord Stark's attacker. The cloak blinded him, and he thrashed around, throwing it over Stark. Aegon was there in a flash cutting his head off, to Jenny's horrified yell. Aegon caught the body, blood spilling on his armor. He shoved the body off and removed the cloak from the fallen Stark. Aegon lifted the fallen Lords visor to see his grey eyes regain focus.

"Velarion?" Stark muttered.

"Close, are you alright, my Lord?" Aegon offered his hand, helping Stark back to his feet.

"Aegon," Jenny's shaken voice made him whip his head back to her.

"Jenny, forgive me." Aegon grabbed his cloak and moved to wrap it around her. She shivered in his grasp but managed a satisfied smile.

"Where's Robert?" Stark retrieved his sword and came to stand next to Aegon.

"Aegon!" Robert, on cue, stormed into his room armored and holding his hammer. "Ned?" Robert smiled and enveloped Stark in a bone-crushing hug. "Gods, it's good to see you!" Robert smiled broadly.

"What's going on outside?" Aegon admitted ignorance, hoping things were going their way.

"Chaos, Prince Valerion led the Vanguard attacking the loyalist outside the wall, when the bells rang, well, things fell apart from there," Ned admitted kicking the ground in frustration.

"Are we losing?" Robert grabbed his hammer with both hands.

"I don't know; we managed to take and hold the town square firmly." Stark removed his helmet and padded cap. He wiped the sweat from his brow. Jenny jumped into motion and filled a cup of wine, giving it to Stark. "Thank you," he downed the whole thing in one swing. "Bah, we pushed north to the fort, but the loyalist counter attacked brought us to hold." Stark wiped his mouth, "Prince Valerion fell wounded in the counterattack, we tried falling back, but knights baring two griffons buckled our center, and I got separated from him." Stark the decency to look down, his shoulders sagging under his armor. "Forgive me, my King."

"No," Aegon ran a hand over his hair, he knew his cousin, hot-headed as he was. "I know Valerion; he is often brash in the middle of combat. I do not doubt this was of his own doing." Aegon shook his head. "Does he live?"

"Last I saw him, aye, I tasked the knights with him to take him to the fountain square. I don't know beyond that." Stark donned his cap and helm once more.

"It's time to end this, Robert, Lord Stark, with me, we need to find Jon Connington, only then can we end this battle."

"Let's go crack some bloody skulls!" Robert grabbed Lord Eddard and stalked to the main floor of the Peach Brothel.

"I must leave, stay here, barricade the doors." Aegon paused, looking at the woman he had come to know the past few weeks. There was something there; it went beyond lust, beyond the fear of dying the next morning. When Connington was hunting for them, they moved a lot. But when they ended up at the Peach. Jenny of all the whores in the brothel helped heal his wounds. He spent so much time talking to her, and he told her tales from across The Narrow Sea. Of Old Ghis, and the Great Golden Pyramid of Mareen. The ruins of Valyria, and the cursed Rhoynar river. He fought it, by the old gods and the new he fought it, but the moment his wounds fully healed, he bedded her. Not for the coin, or desperation, but out of wanting, he could not describe for this simple girl, with big brown eyes, a dimpled smile and two bucked teeth that made her smiles shy. Aegon had never been with another woman save his first time with Catelyn.

Gods save him, his wife and queen waited for him at Riverrun. Here he was a married man wanting to set his wife aside for another woman. Aegon closed his eyes and kissed her soft pink lips. In madness, he could not name he held her face close to his. "Wait for me; I will bring you with me to Kings Landing."

"My sweet King, what of your wife?" Jenny's soft hands caressed his bearded chin.

"I don't love her, but our son will be king. That should be enough, should it not?" Aegon could almost feel his father's glaring eyes on him. He could only imagine what he would do if he found out about this. What use is a crown, if I cannot at least have this one selfish desire?

"You would have your highborn children hate ours?" Jenny's lips pulled down, and her brown eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Would you have me ridiculed as your mistress, sweet king?"

"Never, I will protect you; I will show the blood and fire." Aegon bristled at the mere thought of anyone bad mouthing such a sweet girl.

"But you can't, you said to me, you want to be a better king. One that doesn't abduct women, I think a good king would not shame his wife too." Gods, why was she so pure? Why was she to be a whore when she deserved none of this.

"But," She put her fingers on his lips.

"No buts, go win this horrible war, and find happiness with the highborn lady waiting for you." Jenny stepped back and wrapped his cloak closer to her body.

"I… I lo-" Jenny shook her head, "no, please by the mercy of the seven don't say it." Tears finally fell from her eyes. "I don't think I could deny you if you say those words, please go and forget. Find happiness and forget."

"Forgive me," Aegon turned, donned his helm and joined Robert and Eddard below.

"My King, about the woman." Stark's tone was disapproving; frankly, Aegon was in no mood for what he was about to say.

"Save it for the Septon, or your trees Lord Stark; I won't hear of it." Aegon drew Blackfyre once more and burst out to the chaos outside. The Dragon King stabbed a man in the back who wore crownland colors. With his compatriots as his side, Aegon killed his way to eastern battlements, looking for higher ground and make his presence known. The fighting was fierce; Robert's Warhammer smashed all those who fought him. Stark, if possible was an even bloodier mess, his sword coated in so much blood, the blade looks to be forged of some horrible red metal.

Their push soon ended when they reached the battlements near the eastern gate. Arryn colors flew on the turrets flanking the doors; reinforcements meanwhile poured in steadily. Aegon made his way to the battlements and found Lord Jon Arryn, laid on a cot while a Maester looked over his wounds. Robert and Eddard immediately knelt beside the aging Lord. Jon's left arm was a stump covered in bloodied bandages. While a young lad pressed a red cloth to the Lord's neck curbing the bleeding. The Maester stepped back, finishing his work. He looked to Aegon; his eyes heavy with burden. Aegon nodded; he understood well enough. Aegon took his leave, his companions needed to make peace with their adoptive father. Aegon took to the battlements, the men there instantly knelt on his arrival.

"Rise, I do not need your knees bent, but your swords and wits." Aegon flipped Blackfyre once for good luck.

"Jon Connington, does any man here know where I might find him?" The Dragonking leaned against the ramparts gazing at his massive army assembled outside.

"The battlements Your Grace, he's holed up farther north, keeping us from taking the Northern Gate." Some common man at arms said.

"Well then, I grow tired of this battle, let's go find this man and kill him." Aegon gave no further orders. He started a determined march down the battlements, and he could hear men fall in step behind him. By the time he reached the northern Gate, Aegon had a substantial force. All banners from every house sworn to his allies. The Dragon King stood just out of range of the turret archers. The distance to the gate was corpse riddle path. Atop the southern turret, a man came to look down Aegon. He wore a surcoat of two Griffons, and silver armor with his cloak held by a broach of a hand carrying a dirk.

"I presume you are Jon Connington!" Aegon lifted his visor.

"Aye, and you are the Bastard King, I presume." Aegon did not give him the pleasure of responding to that.

"Your cause is lost Ser; my army is here, yours is falling by piecemeal, do not throw your lives away this day." Aegon placed Blackyfre tip down, resting his hand on the crossguard.

"I need only hold you here, for my prince and true king to sweep you away." A bald-faced lie, Rhaegar was hiding away the gods know where. Aegon knew this; even if what he said wasn't a bluff, he'd need a massive army to smash them at this point.

"Then I must end this battle immediately, surrender Ser, you will be treated as befitting your standing, and might yet keep your lands and titles if you bend the knee." Aegon shrugged.

"I will see you soon then, usurper." Connington drew his sword and stepped away _. Good, I prefer it this way, you whoreson_. Aegon placed his visor back down, he lifted his sword and swung it down, starting the charge. Aegon's armor blunted the arrows raining over him. Though the Dragon King had to be careful, the battlements were slick with blood and strewn with corpses. One wrong footing and he'd be the king who tripped and died. From the turret, Knights exited to create a bulwark of armored men. Blackfyre cut that defense to ribbons. The Valyrian sword flashed in Aegon's expert hands, cutting through armor, shield, and bone. The way cleared, Aegon took to the stairs switching blade hands. The cramped space and the spiral staircases of turrets were always built to give the attacker a disadvantage for being righthanded. It was a good thing Aegon was more than adept with both hands.

Spearmen thrust blindly at the Dragon King. Greenboys, levies risen and given a spear and gambeson. That they held this long was enough to earn them the respect of Aegon. However, these men were in his way; he cut them down with precise skill. All the while, leaning right against the wall to let the bodies roll past. Reaching the top Aegon stabbed a man through his belly, forcing him to step up to the roof of the turret. With a flick of his sword, he shoved the man down to the ground below. Swiftly Aegon faced Jon Connington, he wasted no time and crossed swords with the Dragon Kin. Almost lazily, Aegon parried each strike and shoved the man away from him. More's the pity, a big mouth and he could perhaps beat an unarmed cripple at best. Aegon drawled in his mind before parrying another strike and stabbing Connington through the gut. The sword fell from the Lord's grip, and he went down to his knees. Aegon pulled Blackfyre free and prepared to deliver the killing blow.

"I served my Lord well," the Knight groaned clutching his bleeding stomach.

Aegon gave pause, "your Lord?" a benign enough statement, but why had he not said, King. Behind him, Robert came up. He was without a helm, and his eyes were red.

"Robert, is Lord Arryn?" The question hung in the air depressingly over the Storm Lord.

"Gone," Robert cleared his hoarse throat. He grabbed the helm on Lord Connington and removed it. "Shite!" Robert dropped the helm and swung his Warhammer with one hand, decapitating the man in one swift move. Aegon barely flinched, though no less annoyed Robert delivered the final blow on his opponent.

"That's not him," Robert growled.

"Then, where is Connington?" Aegon gritted his teeth.

A war horn unknown to him blasted across the field. Then three more tones, the men on the turret turned south to the source of the horns. Barely able to make out, Aegon watched a score of knights gather around a banner of red and white. From this distance, he could not make the sigil.

"The Loyalist are retreating!" A man at arms fell to his knees, thanking the seven. Aegon cursed and left to regroup with his men and establish order in this bloody chaos.

Six hours, Aegon spent six hours reconnecting with Lords and their retinues. The order was once again prominent in the Stoney Sept. A mixture of mourning and honors were underway. First were the celebrations, Ser Denys Arryn distinguished himself killing Jon Connington in single combat. The Knight of the Vale had lifted Conningtons head on the western ramparts starting a general route. Though it seemed Connington anticipated either his death or had another plan all together. He had dressed one of his knights in his spare armor to confuse Aegon's men of his whereabouts. All the meanwhile, he hunted for Aegon across the town, killing his way through Aegon's men to find him. He ran into Valerion's escort who fought a series of battles to get Valerion to the Eastern Ramparts. Lord Jon Arryn, with his retinue of knights and heir Ser Denys, engaged the Stormlander.

Connington won their final clash, though not without receiving a wound of his own. Jon delivered a brutal slash beneath Conningtons armpit. In turn, he took Lord Arryn's arm and plunged his dirk into the Lord's neck. Connington fled, and the Valemen gave chase cornering him on the western battlements and slaying the loyalist commander. The loyalist army was saved from utter collapse by Ser Myles Mooton, who ordered a retreat.

The honors also went to Ser Edmure and Aegon's remaining knights from the attack on the Reach. Already they called them the brave companions and the Blackfyre's shield. Edmure and the knights had found Velarion and escorted him and his guard out of the town to be treated by a Measter. Lord Hoster filled with so much pride he hugged his son for all to see. Even Lord Hoster earned some honor for stalling the rest of the loyalist outside the walls.

But that is where the honors and merriment ended, Aegon personally gave the proper words for those who were lost. Highborn or otherwise, but among the notable losses were Jon Arryn, Ethan Glover, and Silveraxe from the Stormlands. Their casualties thank the gods were looking minimal while they delivered a devastating blow to the loyalist. But with what he needed to take care of officially, Aegon went to his tent to find Velarion.

The tent was empty, the guards outside claimed Velarion had angrily dismissed everyone. Aegon hesitated, he knew his cousins' wrath, but he could rest not knowing how badly his cousin was wounded. Aegon entered finding his cousin hunched over in a chair. He was facing the tent walls, silent and without care. Aegon struggled to find the words that he could see; all his limbs were there. So many men were not as lucky.

"I'm done." Valerion's shattered voice made Aegon jump.

"Cousin, how were you wounded." Aegon approached, placing a gauntlet on Vaelrion's shoulder.

"I'm done," Velarion repeated, and his shoulder shook as he sobbed into his hands. Aegon dared to walk around and lift his cousin's head from his hands. His brother did not resist. His lilac eye filled with tears looked to him. The Maester bandaged the right side of the face.

"You lost your eye." Velarion sniffed and freed himself from his brothers grasp. He walked right and tripped on his chair.

"Shite!" His Cousin did not try to stand, just laid there crying into the rug. Aegon helped his unwilling cousin off the ground. He put him against the support beam at the center of the tent. Aegon groaned sitting next to his cousin.

"I can't see anything next to my right; I can't bloody see!" Velarion turned to Aegon.

"You will, you can, I've seen you rise from falls time, and time again," Aegon said.

"This is not the same-" Velarion cursed.

"Then make it!" Aegon growled shooting to his feet.

"I know you; I know you as well as you know yourself." Aegon held his cousins head between his hands. "I believe in you; I believe you can overcome this, do not lose all you are now. I would feel alone if the man I've come to call a brother. Rise like the dragon you are, no more, no less dear cousin." Aegon left his cousin with only one place he wanted to be. He removed his armor and rode into town to the Peach. The Brothel was already in business, Aegon's soldiers already in a drunken stupor hardly noticed him. Aegon entered the Peach; he ignored all whores who approached and stalked upstairs. He burst where he last left Jenny. She was bent over a chest, while a man struggled with his breeches. When Jenny saw him, she gasped covered her shame with her discarded clothes.

"Leave," Aegon ordered the soldier.

"M-y King!" Even drunk, he recognized his king, he stumbled away, hitting the side of the door as he did.

"Aegon," Jenny blushed with tears prickling the edges of her eyes.

"How many," Aegon muttered.

"None, he was going to be my first, the girls let me rest after…well after everything." Jenny sat on the remaining good bed.

"I will be marching soon, back to Riverrun, come with me, please." Aegon knelt at her feet. "Leave this life; I can give you something better."

"Sweet King, we cannot," Jenny shook her head dressing.

"Jenny, I-" she covered her ears, "No!" She shook her head, feverously.

Aegon took her arms, and she fought him, fought him in a losing battle. "I love you."

Her eyes widen, and she cried openly now, "fool your selfish fool." She threw herself at him, their mouths finding each other. He made quick work of what little she put back on, and he did the same.

"What am I to do?" Jenny laid atop him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Leave this place, this life for something better," Aegon muttered.

"What else there, I have no coin to buy a house, worst what good folk would give work to a whore?" she threaded their fingers together.

"When the war ends, I will send for you; I will send men I trust. My Cousin, I shall name him Prince of Dragonstone, he will keep my trust, and you can live there, under his protection." Aegon said.

"What will I do? Folk will talk if I am just some pampered commoner." Jenny sat up, looking down at him.

"We will find something for you to do, something to keep people from whispering. I will visit when I can." Aegon moved their intertwined hands to kiss her knuckles.

"You must not come if you must, but please do not see me out. I do not want to cause you any more trouble." Jenny hurt him by ripping her hand from his and hugging her body.

"But I-" Aegon sat up, and she placed her fingers on his lisp. "Promise me Aegon, please promise me you will not seek me out, let me live in peace, and silently thank you for delivering me from here." Jenny shook her head.

"I…I shall try," Aegon muttered.

"If, if you come to see me, I will leave Dragonstone, and you will never hear from me again." Jenny insisted.

"How will I know if you are well?" He is wrong, wanting to see her still, hold her, it was wrong. He said his vows before the seven with another woman already.

"You Cousin, ask him and I shall respond, but no more than that." Jenny stood up, leaving behind an emptiness that hollowed him out.

"Jenny," Aegon muttered her name like a prayer. "Very well, I give you my words."

Jenny smiled; a smile so sweet it only served to create a pit in his heart. "Thank you, my sweet King." Aegon sat up and pulled her to him. "Aegon," she tried to pull away.

"Just for tonight, stay with me, let me make love to you until we cannot stand. Let me get as much of your warmth as I can before returning to the cold of the world." Her cheeks reddened, and she straddled his lap, kissing his forehead.

"For tonight, will you call me your wife? Just for tonight, would you call me your Lady Wife?" Jenny's blush deepened at her request. "It is silly; forget, I asked."

"I would not deny you…my Lady Wife. Let us lay as husband and wife should." Aegon kissed her neck, and Jenny gasped when she felt his manhood press against her belly. "For whatever tomorrow may hold, tonight will be ours, and none shall deny us." Aegon kissed her deeply, and they lay in bed, forgetting about war and forgetting about the responsibilities of a King. As the King bedded the Queen, he wished for, a red comet streaked across the sky. It was sudden and completely out of nowhere. Aegon just remembered seeing the red-light filter through the hole that was in the roof while Jenny quivered beneath him.


	5. Chapter 5 Battle of the Trident

**Aegon**

 **283 A.C**

 **Riverlands**

Aegon watched with envious eyes as Stark held the face of the woman he loved. Ashara Dayne, according to what most men would tell, the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms. His mood only worsens when Stark placed a hand on his wife's pregnant belly. Two Weddings took place at Riverrun today. With the death of Jon Arryn, as custom decreed, his vow to marry Lysa Tully fell to Ser Denys Arryn. When the wedding was over, Robert had privately asked him to witness another wedding. As everyone celebrated, Aegon returned to Riverrun's Sept. Inside Robert, Eddard, and his cousin Velarion waited for him. His cousin was looking far better, though still solemn with his silver hair covering the right side of his face. His beard was trimmed, meaning his brother decided to keep it.

The woman Aegon had not known, not until the ceremony began and they pledged their love for one another. He was happy for Stark, even Valerion managed a smile for the Lord. Yet that happiness turned to resentment and jealousy. Eddard said they had wed under a heart tree in White Harbor, marrying in the Light of the Seven was something Eddard did out of love for Lady Ashara.

An indignant neigh snapped him from his dark thoughts. His horse shook his head and nudged Aegon's hand on his snout. The beast's show of affection made him crack a smile. He was foolish, jealousy for Stark was not to fault for his love of Jenny. Aegon was a King to envy his subjects is stupid and dangerous. He must rule over Stark, resenting him would only destroy the relationship they are building in this war. Aegon had to be better, his Targaryen counterparts had committed their last mistake. Their dynasty ended with this war. Aegon's would start a new era in Westeros.

"My King, I have come to wish you well, and that you shall be in my prayers this night and all the ones to come." Catelyn approached with her handmaidens in tow. His Queen curtsied and offered him a shy smile. Where Aegon once saw grief, he now saw a resolve he had not expected of Catelyn. This served to exasperate the ache in his heart over Jenny. Catelyn was a good woman, far better than he deserved for breaking his vows to her. Her Pregnant belly further drove that dagger into his heart.

Aegon bowed, in return to his queen, "thank you, my Queen." Aegon lifted a hand, meaning to stroke her face. Flashes of brown hair and dimpled cheeks made him rethink the action. His great guilt stopped him cold, he would not mean it. Instead, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, as was proper and expected of him. "Your prayers and seeing you again will keep me alive."

"My King, I wish to know what would you name your son?" Catelyn clasped her hands together, her eyes hopeful for the future.

"What if it is a daughter?" Aegon raised a brow.

"I have prayed to the Seven that they give me a son, I feel it in my heart I will bare you a son my King." Catelyn's blue eyes flashed like steel.

"A son," Aegon thought of it, being a father was far different than waging war. Yet his son might have to fight himself, if the gods have decided on a son, Aegon will honor them with a warrior's name. "Aegor, after my ancestor's greatest ally, a warrior through and through."

Catelyn smiled prettily, "Aegor it shall be, and he shall wait for his father here in Riverrun, so please return to me, my King." Catelyn curtsied one more time before taking her leave. In that time, Eddard had stalked his way to him. Despite everything, the idea of having a son of his own had erased Aegon's jealousy towards his subject.

"Are you ready my King?" Stark said.

"Aye," Aegon mounted his horse, "let's go take that city." The march for Kings Landing had begun.

Their massive host set out from Riverrun on the Kings Road, all together they amassed some thirty thousand men. Arryn, Stark, Tully, all houses Aegon would remember after the war. After several weeks of marching, while camped out but a day's ride from Harrenhall news came to Aegon and his Lords.

"That Whoreson finally dares to show his face!" Robert smashed his gauntlet so hard on the table, Aegon was forced to hold it to keep it from flipping over. The Stormlord's eyes were wild, his hands clenched and unclenched looking for something to crush. Stark placed a calming hand on Robert, and his friend settled if only a little.

"Prince Rhaegar has reached Kings Landing, he has amassed forty thousand men. He will intercept us soon." Father's voice was grim. But the situation called for it, forty thousand men, they were outnumbered by quite a bit.

"What are we to do my Lords?" Valerion tied his hair back to reveal a menacing black eye patch. Combined with his beard, his cousin looked older than Aegon himself. Aegon was proud of him, the moment he snapped from the grief. Valeron began training tirelessly to overcome his reduced field of vision. But his brother was a natural warrior, born from another warrior Maelys strongest of our family. I knew given time, he would be fit for battle. Though to ease his own mind, Aegon had placed Ser Edmure and his Brave Companions as Valerion's personal guard for the fight to come.

"We can't fight him in the open, we would be fools to do so." Ser Denys scratched his scruffy face.

"Mayhaps we send skirmishers to pick at his numbers." Jon Umber tapped on the map.

"That would serve little in the long run," the cold voice of Roose Bolton came up.

"We need to negate his numbers if we were to fall back to the Vale." Lord Yohn suggested.

"you would have me leave the Riverlands to the mercy of the Targaryens? What of Tywin Lannister, would he remain neutral once he knows we are trapped?" Lord Hoster barked angrily.

"The Royal fleet would just descend on us from the sea." Stark crossed his arms, observing the map.

"What if we double back? Go around the Gods eye, march to the Westerlands and force Lord Tywin to aid us?" Ser Denys leaned on the table.

"That would ensure the Old Lion would support the Targaryens," Valerion grunted.

"My Lords!" Father's voice silenced the room. I believe the King might have something to say on the matter.

He did, Aegon had decided on a plan while he listened to his Lords. To not engage Rhaegar directly. But they all forget they one the advantage in one area. Rhaegar was the man pursuing them, not the other way around. The battlefield would be theirs for the choosing. "The Trident," Aegon spoke plainly.

"Your Grace?" Stark's eyes squinted at the map in confusion.

"Prince Rhaegar chases us, not the other way around. We will force battle in our own terms. We will deploy our forces on the far end of the Trident. Rhaegar will be forced to cross to engage us. From there we will make sure his forces have to sludge through the mud of the river ford to fight us." Aegon pointed towards the river, making a line across the north of it.

"What of his numbers? He can just envelop us." Ser Edmure made an exasperated gesture.

"The ford is shallowest here," Lord Hoster pointed to a section of the Trident, all the while glaring at his son. Something told Aegon Ser Edmure would be traveling the Riverlands after this war was over. "His men would drown trying to cross the deeper part of the river, not to mention it's even harder to cross with men pelting you with missiles from the other end." Lord Hoster peeled his lips back in a grin.

"The Whoreson won't be able to bring his full army to bear." Robert smashed his fist on the table, making it rattle. "Good, very good, I will lead the Vanguard and buckle their center, that is where the vile Prince will be!" Robert snarled, gripping the table hard enough to make the wood groan. _Gods above, how strong is that man?_ Aegon frowned in bewilderment.

"The King will decide Lord Baratheon," Lord Hoster glared at the Stormlord.

"You gave me your word, and I bent the knee, Your Grace." Robert pointed an accusing finger at Aegon.

Aegon scowled, "I did not forget, I honor my vows, Lord Baratheon, Prince Rhaegar is yours."

Lord Hoster pursed his lips together in displeasure.

"Lord Baratheon will command the vanguard and take the center. Lord Stark will command the left flank, and my cousin Valerion shall command the right." Aegon grabbed wood carvings representing house sigils and moved the pieces on the respective sides of the map.

"Are there any other objections?" Aegon looked among his Lords. He received shakes of the head and bows. "Then time is wasting, we march on the morrow."

At the break of dawn, Aegon's army began breaking camp. Aegon's Golden Company broke their camp first and assembled to watch the rear. One would think Ser Edmure had always been a part of the company for how he and his Brave Companions took to organizing the men. At the time of the sun fully rising, a welcomed surprise makes their way to their army. The elephants Aegon had detached from their army stomped up the Kings Road. Little Pussy mounted on the lead elephant threw a smirk at Aegon while passing him by. That lucky cat of his jumped up and perched on his master's shoulder. _Must have been the cat's luck again,_ Aegon chuckled and gave a mock salute.

"We lost four elephants; I had the rest take the rear with the Company." Little Pussy waved, taking his elephants to the front of the column. Aegon, for his part, rode up and down the army to pick up the pace. His encouragement had them march before the sun is at the highest point. They maintained a steady course using drums to encourage the men further. Aegon wanted to reach Harroway before nightfall. He wished to have his men sleep with a roof over their head, and a belly full of warm food. Aegon had Lord Hoster send a rider to Lord Roote to prepare for their arrival.

To the Kings displeasure, they arrived well after sunset to Harroway. His mood was not improved by the news Lord Roote had for him. Lord Tywin Lannister was gathering an army on the Golden Tooth. The Lord of Harroway had sent a raven asking who he plans to declare for. There has been no response, and Aegon's Lords have become anxious about the matter. It would not do to leave his Lords to their own fears, Aegon has some of his men gather the Lords in Lord Roote's Great Hall.

"Tywin Lannister is a smart man, more so he has been slighted time, and time again by The Mad King." Lord Jason Mallister stood from his seat and leaned against the table. "We have beaten the loyalist at Gulltown, Summerhall, and Stoney Sept. He would be a fool not to join us." A chorus of murmurs followed Lord Mallister's speech.

"Tywin is a shrewd man; he will not make a move unless he is assured of victory. We were handed a significant defeat in the Reach, and we almost lost the King and his Brother." Lord Yohn Royce was next to speak.

"We won at the Stoney Sept, my Lord." Valerion grunted, "Lord Tywin would do well to remember we have won all but one battle."

"My Lords, we gain little to speak of how Lord Tywin Lannister means to act." Aegon's father stood beside him. "I do not know the man, and from what I see, neither does any man here. We have nothing to go on but his reputation, and the way he dealt with traitors to his house." His uncle took a sip of his wine to wet his throat. "Even if Lord Tywin marches on us, the battle will already be raging. I imagine he knows this. He will take a week if not two, to arrive at the Trident." The old Dragon cleared his throat and rapped his knuckles across his back, "I there for say, we send a party to meet Lord Tywin on the River Road."

"That seems dangerous brother." Uncle Maelys finally spoke up.

"Mayhaps, but this battle will truly decide the fate of The Seven Kingdoms. If we break Prince Rhaegar here, nothing will stand between Kings Landing and us." His father retook his seat, "forgive me, these old bones are much less compliant today."

"What of Mace Tyrell?" Lord Eldon Estermont says Mace's name as if it were poison on his lips.

"Stannis holds firm at Storms End, he will not break." Robert quickly spoke for his brother.

"Very well, I agree with my father, this battle will determine the war. We kill or capture Prince Rhaegar." Aegon gave Robert a sidelong glance. "Then we deal with Lord Tywin, either peacefully or otherwise." Aegon stood, resting his hand on Blackfyre's pommel, "With that, I will end this meeting, tell your bannerman of our plan. I will have volunteers meet me in my quarters tonight." Aegon dismissed his Lords and returned to his rooms.

Some three hours later, after sedating his hunger on honeyed ham and wine, Aegon received his volunteers. Ser Donnel Swann, Ser Richard Horpe and, Ser Harry Strickland knelt before Aegon. Most curious of these men was Harry Strickland, while Aegon did not doubt the courage of the other knights, Strickland was another story. If he weren't complaining of blisters from long marches, marches he made atop his horse mind you, he complained about something else. Despite being a Knight, Strickland had never led a charge or drawn his sword against another. He was not sure about trusting a man such as Harry with a delicate task as this, but then again, the man knew how to kiss ass. Perhaps that quality would serve well to gather Lord Tywins intentions.

So, Aegon wrote a letter in his own hand no less and gave it his seal. He handed the letter to Ser Richard Horpe, much to Strickland's dismay who asked to be given command of this outing. Aegon took some small pleasure in the man's indignation and prepared to have Ser Donnel Swann taking control, him being from the more prestigious house. But, Ser Brynden of all people arrived late offering his sword. Aegon could hardly deny Ser Edmure's uncle.

At the break of dawn, Aegon doubled the army's effort to break camp. The rested men, quite a few who were hosted by the smallfolk gladly did so. The smallfolk had been flocking to Aegon's cause. The Mad King and the absent Prince had made for great propaganda for him to take advantage of. His father revealed he had been spending coin on Minstrels and Criers to spread Aegon's noble deeds, and The Mad Kings evil to the smallfolk. The common people were all too happy to embrace Aegon as a liberator. So, to the shouts of Smallfolk Aegon and his men marched north, while his chosen Knights rode west.

Forcing a hard march, Aegon bypassed Darry, a keep belonging to a loyalist Lord. Aegon preferred not to get bogged down in a needless siege. By the morning of the next day, the last of Aegon's army crossed the Trident at the river ford. Aegon spared his men the rest of the day set up camp and rest. Though the next morning, the King began preparations for the battle to come, as well as contingencies, should the worst happen. If the Gods favored them, as they should in Aegon's mind, the letters in his hands would be words in the wind. But with the help of his father, Aegon left instructions of what is to happen should he fall today.

By his orders, his son or daughter by Catelyn is to be crowned in his stead. All Houses who pledged their lives to him would sit his offspring on the Iron Throne. Should they be defeated, the armies are to split and retreat. The Riverlands is to surrender to the Crown, the Eyre is to close off all ports and prepare for the next war. The Northmen will flee North of the neck and do the same, and when Aegon's heir is of age, they are to march against the Targaryens. Should the Riverlands no longer be able to support his claim, they are to remain neutral and belay all call to arms from House Targaryen to allow Aegon's heir to take Kings Landing. The Dragon King spread his will to his great Lords, then he took to the field to oversee the battle preparations.

Aegon ordered some men to sludge through the ford, once the water reached their breast, he had them place markers sticking out of the water. As he feared, the ford would be wide enough for Rhaegar to get most of his army to bare. The ford looked to be two leagues across, he would have to spread his men wisely. The King instructed his footmen to take up positions along the crossing. He had the pikemen take the center and spearmen as far as he could line them. To his left, Aegon had his missile infantry take up a position on a hill overlooking the crossing. He charged Lord Stark and his northern cavalry, among Starks personal guard, were Jorah Mormmont, Mark Ryswell, and Theo Wull holding the left wing.

For his right, Aegon had no similar cover like the Northerners. Ser Denys, however, proved himself rather useful. He disappeared with a good chunk of his knights for a full day. The Vale Lord returned the next morning battered but with good spirits. With him several carts of timber, when Aegon asked him what he did, the Vale Lord smirked and said he visited a man plowing a field for some wood. Hastily, Denys had his men erect a palisade giving his archers a raised platform to guard the right wing.

On the fourth day, Aegon's outriders returned bloodied with news of the loyalist army. Prince Rhagera's own scouts tried to blind Aegon, but Aegon's outriders were hardened men of the Golden Company. They had been the company's eyes far longer than the green boys Prince Rhaegar threw at them. Aegon sent out his outriders to engage Rhaegars, he also doubled the foraging parties should they encounter Rhagear's men.

Finally, on the seventh day, Aegon's army assembled on The Trident as they had practiced. Though he had some small changes made, he split his elephants among both wings of his army. He put Little Pussy on the right and Lord Corbary with his Lady Forlon on the left. Aegon's cousin took to the right wing, his helmet no longer possessed a visor. Instead, he wore a black bascinet helmet his eye glaring at everything. Aegon as King took command of the center fighting on foot. Baratheon and his Stormlander knights, with a few mounted Northmen courtesy of Lord Stark, commanded the Vanguard.

There was a cool breeze passing through The Trident, the grass swayed gently while the wind caressed Aegon's face. The waters of The Trident calmly passed the Dragon King. Kneeling, Aegon watched the Kings Road and the flatlands before a steep hill. Then, as if the world remembered there was a war going on, the wind stopped, a murder of crows flew overhead briefly casting a shadow over Aegon's men. A war horn pierced morning air, the sound like water on a man's face straightened everyone on the field. Aegon stood, he drew Blackfyre and stuck it in the ground and rest his hands on the pommel.

Stretched across the field Prince Rhaegar's army marched deftly towards him. The Dragon King narrowed his eyes, taking in their formation. Dornish spears made up the right flank facing Valerion, the left flank held Reachmen and loyalist forces from the Riverlands and Stormlands. Scanning the banners, Aegon saw a brown banner with a man plowing a field. Ser Deny's smirk flashed across Aegon's mind, and he chuckled. The center, led by Prince Rhaegar consisted of a mass of Crownland houses. The Targaryen Prince had a retinue of some hundred Knights. The rest of the loyalist cavalry guarded the wings, respectively Aegon recognized the Kingsguard on the right wing by the white cloak, the Dornish riders made Aegon think it might Prince Lewyn Martell commanding the right wing. The left looked to be led by a man with a mace and dagger for a coat of arms.

"So it begins," Aegon donned his helmet. "Signal the archers," commanded Aegon. Two horns thundered across his lines, his men opened ranks, and hundreds of men poured in between forming into companies. Black Balaq passed by Aegon, giving him a nod and smirk.

The Golden Company Archers formed orderly and quickly, longbows at the ready. "Knock!" Balaq's voice boomed across the line. The thumping of feet became louder, "Draw!" Archers swiftly followed the order, the thuds picked up the pace. "Loose!" with dull thwacks hundreds of arrows arced into the sky. Through the gaps between the archers, Aegon saw the arrows pelt Prince Rhaegar's lines. Several men fell, cries of agony ripped from their throats. Balaq let loose another volley, then another one in quick succession. "Brace!" Balaq turned quickly to Aegon, and the man ducked behind a shield. Aegon ducked and lowered his helmet as arrows pelted his line and killed several of his archers. The thundering of hooves caught Aegon's attention. He looked up to see a company of mounted Dornish archers ride from the right wing feathering Aegon's men.

When the mounted Archers passed, a company of knights rushed at Aegon's center. "Fall back, move it you miserable bastards!" Balaq shoved and kicked his men to the rear of the line. Aegon followed suit, he found a servant waiting for him with his horse. Aegon mounted the beast and raised Blackfyre.

"Close ranks!" Aegon ordered, the short burst of the horn followed. The pikemen closed ranks and created a prickly wall of spikes. The attackers instantly lost their nerve and broke off under a hail of arrows from Balaq, sending volleys from behind the pikemen. "Brace!" Aegon shouted when the Dornish horse archers came around for another run.

"To the seven hells with them!" Robert rode with a company of his knights. Some fifty men total, they passed through the adjacent Spearmen company and rode hard against the coming archers. The Dornishmen were too slow on the retreat and despite the speed of their Sand Steeds. Robert smashes against them their bigger war horses utterly crushing the light cavalry. Aegon' watches Baratheon swing his hammer like a feather with one hand. He caved in a Dornishman's chest and tore another's arm off from the sheer force of the hit. The Dornish archers drew blades and failed miserably against the plate wearing knights. The commander wisely withdrew, but not before Robert killed another three men. As the Dornishmen withdrew, they pelted Robert's knights with arrows. They managed to kill a knight's horse right under him, but he was quickly helped up, and Robert retreated back into the line.

"The coward fears us, he won't commit!" Robert barked, riding up to his King.

"Prince Rhaegar is no fool, our victories have made him cautious." Aegon looked towards the loyalist, they stopped just short of Balaq's range. The Prince's front ranks parted, and Archers formed up. "Shite, have the center fall back, a hundred yards!" The warhorn blew tow long blares. Without breaking formation, the men started to move back in a light jog. Arrows flew into the air, Aegon cursed when more of his pikemen fell to their arrows. _He attacks my center exclusively, I have heard naught from Stark or Valerion._ Aegon glares to his enemies across the field. They let loose two mover volleys before Aegon is out of range. It clicks in his mind, that was his plan, to create a gap in his lines. The loyalist blew their horns at either side of Aegon. Now the real battle began.

"Well played, but we won't fall so easily. Stand strong, today we become immortal, and the annals of history will remember, we ended the reign of the Mad King!" his men roared in approval, they closed ranks and raised pikes and spears. Prince Rhaegar's foot marched for the river, over their heads arrows flew to feather Aegon's army. Balaq returned the favor and let loose his own volleys. Back and forth, both armies rained iron on one another. When the loyalist reached The Trident, their archers ceased their attack.

Aegon's men shifted at the sheer size of the enemy host. But they were battle harden, with two victories on their side. The pikemen braced, and the spearmen raised their shields, and with a thunderous roar, Prince Rhaegar's men smashed against Aegon's. Steel cracked against steel, and the screams of men created a haunting chorus for the battle. TheBlackfyre king looked towards Robert, and the Stormlord nodded silently. "With me lads, break these whoresons!" Robert organized the vanguard, and Aegon watched the lines. Prince Rhaegar was pushing his numerical advantage, as he doubled up on his Dornish spears fighting the pikemen. The smaller company of pikes had suffered substantial casualties from Rahegar's mounted archers. Brave and discipline as his men were, they would not hold.

"Ready!" Robert's battlefield voice boomed over the chaos. Aegon drew up Blackfyre and rode back to join him. The vanguard held most of the cavalry, a gamble on Aegon's part. Hopefully, the added numbers would be enough, and Prince Rhaegar would fall.

"We can't hold em!" Aegon's soldiers lamented.

The Dornish must have heard this, for they embolden and cut a swath through the pikes. With a heavy heart, Aegon watched the company dissolve into chaos break. "Charge!" Robert's order was almost as loud as the warhorn that followed. With a snap of the reins, Aegon tore through the field right behind Robert. The Dornishmen hastily try to assemble, but their charge smashed into their lines crushing them beneath their weight. Aegon slashed Blackfyre until he felt his arm had gone numb. The Dornish spear company was no more, now it was just men trying to flee. The poor sous found no mercy Robert or him, they rode them down as they scattered to the field.

A horn blared three times, Aegon's head snapped up. Tearing through the field, knights with lances down bared down on them. Leading them, was a man in black armor flying the red dragon. Aegon gritted his teeth and held his reins tighter. "Rhaegar!" Aegon swore Robert's shout shook the earth. The Stormlord hastily assembled the Vanguard into formation. "Beneath the gold, the bittersteel!" Robert roared and charged.

"Beneath the gold, the bittersteel!" Aegon repeated and followed Robert, Blackfyre resting on his shoulder at the ready position. The sound of steel on steel reverberated in Aegon's ears. His sword bites into armor. He feels something bang against his head. The ground rushes to meet him, and there is a horn in the distance.

 **Eddard**

"There!" Ned pointed his lance at the advancing Targaryen line. Prince Rhaegars left wing was folding to fall on the gap that formed to Ned's left.

"Your orders, my Lord?" Roose Bolton's voice for once was above a whisper and audible.

"Piss on them, don't let them buckler our center. For King Aegon Blackfyre, for The North!" Ned's voice was like the howling wolf. He slammed down his visor, and his men sounded the horn. The northern cavalry splashed into the ford aiming for the loyalist exposed flank. The gallop was short, Ned's lance struck true beneath a knights armpit. The lance broke, and Ned barreled through the mass of horses and knights. His warhorse reared its head blowing through the loyalist. From his saddle, Ned drew Ice and went about his bloody work.

The loyalist buckled, but they fought with on. Through the haze of men and steel, Ned could see the loyalist rear. He hacked at any man who approached, Ice cut through armor and shield. The river quickly turned a dark red. The ground was dug up, and the horses started sinking into the soft ground. Ned watched many men be flung from their horses. Others desperately tried to stand only to be knocked back down to drown in the river. Ned's own horse struggled under him his hooves trying to find sure footing.

"Die rebel dog!" Ned leaned back, a mace nearly caved his head in. He swung Ice only to be parried, and the man stabs at him with his mace. Ned's horse reared, and it took every ounce of strength to hold on. He nearly fell to a watery grave. When his horse went down, Ned cut down with Ice in an unsteady one hand chop. His attacker did not expect it, Ned cut his arm with a spray of blood. _Fall!_ Ned gritted his teeth and cut the man down from shoulder to hip. The Knight fell off his horse, his surcoat had a dagger and mace on it.

"The Hand is dead!" A voice among many caught Ned's attention.

"Don't falter, for Prince Rhaegar!" A white cloak billowed in the wind, and four men barreled down to him. On their breasts, a man with a plow on a field of black.

"Protect your Lord!" Mark, Jorah, and William rallied around Ned.

"For the North!" Ned yelled over the chaos, they clashed amidst the chaos of the river. Ned's sword flashed as the Kingsguard parried him at every turn. Ned fought with every ounce of his being, his arms grew sore and numb. The Kingsguard grunted, and his counterattacks became slower. A growl tore itself from Ned's lungs. He parried a strike from the Kingsguard above him. He twisted Ice to let the sword slide and plunge it into the Kingsguard's heart. Red stained the Kingsugard's surcoat, he drew back Ice and let the knight slump over his horse.

"Fight, do not leave your king's side unguarded!" Another knight, courageous as the last rallied the loyalist. His personal guard grouped around him, letting him catch his breath.

"Hold!" Ned gasped for breath, "break them here and end this war!" Ned raised Ice, and his men rushed once more into the thick of it.

 **Valerion**

The Black Prince pulled his sword from the Dornishman's ribs. Ser Edmure and his Brave Companions kept a close watch on his right flank. Valerion bared his teeth, the mere thought sent a burning fury through his veins. He channeled that fury into each swipe of his sword, felling one man after the other. "My Prince!" Ser Edmure, scale armor coated in blood pointed his sword into the thick of the battle. The Kingsguard, Valerion remembered him to be Ser Lewyn Martell, a knight of some renown. _This is where I prove I am still a formidable warrior!_ Valerion spun his sword and lifted it above his head.

"With me! Kill these whoresons!" The Black Prince charged ahead, albeit clumsily over the corpses in the river. Ser Lewyn turned his steed on them, he raised his bloodied sword and charged with far more men at his back than Valerion. The Black Prince roared a dragon's roar and hacked his way through the men coming for him. Stab through the throat, stab through the heart, cut another's belly open, butchers work. Valerion hardly had to look at the poor sods, they fought well enough, but he was better and was armored. So many spears and sword glided off his armor, he only bothered to parry strikes meant for his blind side.

The Black Prince slew one last man before reaching Ser Lewyn. The field was clear, ser Edmure and his knights had cut a bloody swath to ensure it. Yet, Valerion found Ser Lewyn pinned under his horse, barely keeping his helmed head above the water. _I won't let water steal my glory_ Valerion dismounted, his horse threatened to bolt on him, but Valerion placed a calming hand on him. This one was a finicky one, nothing like his previous horse. He stalked towards Ser Lewyn with a sword in hand. Ser Lewyn froze, seizing his struggles when he saw Valerion. He lifted his visor, brown eyes staring into lilac. "Do you yield Ser?" Valerion pointed his sword at the knight's throat.

For a moment, Ser Lewyn looked beaten, but only for a moment, "make it quick," he uttered.

Valerion grinned a face-splitting grin. "Well said Ser," Valerion sheathed his sword and with great strength lifted the horse enough to allow Ser Lewyn to crawl out of it. The Dornish knight scrambled to his feet, picking up his sword from the mud. Valerion dropped the horse and drew his blade.

"King Aegon?" Ser Lewyn asked.

"Valerion, cousin to the king and heir apparent." Valerion nodded.

"Ah, it won't be as a grand a tale, but it will still be glorious." Ser Lewyn drew up his sword, ready for combat.

"Likewise, die well Ser," Valerion offered a firm nod and raised his sword.

"Defend yourself!" Ser Lewyn made the first move; his blade caught the sun and blinded Valerion briefly. Experience taught him to sidestep, and parry a cut meant for his neck. Valerion recovered quickly and hacked at Ser Lewyn with murderous intent. Their steel sang, both men skillfully evading and countering at the slightest opening. Ser Lewyn locked their blades if only for a second, the Kingsguard half handed and drove the crossguard to Valerion's right temple. Valerion fell backs tunned keeping his sword up to keep the gap between them. Ser Lewyn stepped into a cut knocking Valerion's blade aside.

"Shite!" Valerion cursed sidestepped and delivered a vicious blow on Ser Lewyn's head. The knight faltered to a knee, holding his head. Valerion seized his advantage and went to take the Kingsguard's head. Ser Leywn ducked turning on his knee and stabbed between Valerion's leg. The blade broke through the mail and cut into his inner thigh. Valerion gritted his teeth and swung on Ser Lewyn's head. The knight drew back his sword parried and pressed the attack.

Valerion grunted forced to block his opponent's skillful attacks. Ser Lewyn was a flurry of movement, his cloak billowing behind him. Valerion evaded an overhead cut and hit Ser Lewyn with his crossguard across the side of his helm. The Black Prince stepped forward and delivered a savage blow to the back of Lewyn's head. The Kingsguard staggered and swiped at Valerion while turning. Valerion caught one of these swings battering the sword away. Ser Lewyn was left wide open, and Valerion stabbed at his neck. The Kingsguard voided the stab and drew up his sword beneath Valerion's armpit. He slid the sword cutting beneath valerion's armpit.

Valerion dropped his sword, pain shooting down his arm. _I'm not done!_ Valerion grabbed his dirk from his belt. Ser Lewyn raised his sword for a crushing blow. Valerion deflected the blow, guiding it away as he put his hand on Ser Lewyn's wrist pushing away from himself. The Black Prince drove the dirk right into Ser Lewyn's exposed armpit to the hilt. The Dornishman screamed, then kneed Valerion on his injured thigh. His leg gave out from the pain and Valeiron fell to a knee. Ser Lewyn stepped back, then dropped to a knee. He perched himself on his sword, his free hand holding the dirk.

"My Prince!" Ser Edmure and some of his brave companions crowded around them, forming a protective ring. Ser Lewyn was surrounded, but even then, the Kingsguard did not yield. He got to his feet and pulled the dirk out of his armpit. Sword in his bloodstained hands, he charged Valerion. The Black Prince obliged, feeling a second wind he stood and met Ser Lewyn. They clashed blades, their swings tired but no less skillful. Valerion dropped back, letting a swing miss him, he drew up and with a mighty roar drove his sword for Ser Lewyn's throat. The Dornish Knight staggered, the movement caused Valerion's to miss his target and slide off the knight's helm. Ser Lewyn fell forward, landing on a fallen horse. Valerion staggered forward, dropping his sword, falling onto his knees.

"Grab him!" Ser Edmure yelled Valerion started to feel dizzy, the world began to spin around him. Someone grabbed him and said something. Perhaps it was meant for him, the voices were all muddled together now, he didn't know who was saying what.

"They're coming!"

"No time, let's go!"

"But!"

"To the other side of the river!"

"A horn is that the retreat!"

"A route, it's a route!"

The world finally faded from view and Valerion heard no more.

 **Robert**

"Rhaegar! Face me, coward!" Robert's voice was like a hammer hitting the anvil. His retinue of stormlanders guarded his flanks, while Robert smashed his way through the loyalist. All the while, he called out for Rhaegar to face him in single combat. "All these deaths are on you coward, face me!" Robert smashed a knight's head, the helmet warped around the man's head, and he fell face first into the bloody river.

"Come forth, you Dragonspawn!" Robert flipped his hammer and drove the spike into another poor sods skull. The horse rode away, nearly taking Robert's hammer with him. The Stormlord simply lited his arm, letting the spike slide from the destroyed helm. Two more men, poor knights for sure, only in a mail hauberk. Robert made short of them, hitting the first knight to reach him so hard he was flung from his horse. The other put up more of a fight, trying to avoid Robert's strikes. With a guttural growl, Robert grabbed his hammer with both hands swung for the knight's midsection. He put his shield up, it did not save him. Robert flipped the hammer at last second, driving the spike through the shield stabbing into his arm. The knight let go of his sword, and Robert pulled his hammer back from the shield. The Stormlord grabbed the shield, pushing it down, clearing the way for Robert to deliver a murderous hit with his hammer. The Knight;'s neck snapped, his skin tore, and only his mail coif kept his head from flying off his body. Instead, his horse rode away with the knight's head bobbed up and down on his back.

"Seven hells," Ser Beric Dondarrion, rode up to his liege lord. "Over there!" Ser Beric pointed to downriver. Sure enough, Robert saw him, Rhaegar Targaryen slaying some hedge knights fighting for Robert. The Prince of Dragonstone was clad in black armor with a three-headed dragon headdress. The Prince's black cloak billowed in the wind as he slew any man who came near.

A fire burned in Robert's belly, he tightened the grip on his hammer. His horse snorted angrily, sharing in its riders fury. Robert prepared to order his men to charge with him.

"Seven preserve us, it's the King!" Lord Selwyn Tarth pointed to the Kings banner, swarmed by the loyalist upriver.

"My Lord, we must save the King!" Ser Beric turned his horse to face Robert. _He's right there!_ Robert glanced back to Prince Rhaegar, he was cutting a bloody path through their men. He'd reach the footmen soon.

 _Forgive me Lyanna,_ Robert turned to face the Kings banner. "With me lads, your king needs you!" Robert rallied his men and charged upriver. Their path was impeded by the many corpses strewn about. Each step had his horse snort frustrated as his hooves sank into the dug up river bed. They reached the king without much momentum. But the men attacking the King took notice and turned to stop them. Robert smashed them with impunity. Robert's horse tried forcing his way through the mass of beast and men. Ser Beric brought his left, and Lord Tarth his right.

The skirmish was bloody, and Robert was battered with everything from swords to maces. His fury dulled any pain, and he delivered twice the damage he received. His once pristine surcoat was a mess of red and gore from all the men Robert had slain. He was able to drive a wedge into the mass of men breaking through to the King's center. _Seven hells!_ A white cloak with a surcoat of wheat clad in white armor, it could be none other than Ser Barristan Selmy. He was cutting men down as if they were made of straw. Each man he killed drew him closer to the fallen form of King Aegon. Robert kicked his horse and charged into the fray.

Roberts hammered saved a knight from a finishing blow. Ser Barristan immediately countered against Robert. His sword flashed as quick as lighting, and Robert was hard pressed to keep up with his heavier Warhammer. Their mounts started circling each other, and Robert had to use every technique he had ever learned to fight off the Kingsguard. Ser Barristan feinted from above, and Robert swung, leaving him open. The Knight slashed horizontally, the blade smacked him across the face, and he staggered. The Stormlord raised his hammer at the last second and caught Ser Barristan's next attack. Robert veered the stab off course and swung the hammer for his opponent's neck.

Ser Barristan ducked stabbed beneath Roberts armpit. Robert brought down his gauntlet over the sword just as Ser Barristan drew back leaving only a shallow cut beneath his arm. Pushing the attack, Robert swung up from below, forcing Ser Barristan back. The Kingsguard followed up with with an overhead strike. Robert dodged but brought up his hammer catching the blade. With his great strength, Robert swung up to disarm Ser Barristan. The Knight quickly drew back his sword and smacked Robert across the face again. The blow rattled the Stormlords head, but Robert was ready, he pushed off his stirrups and dove on Ser Barristan.

The knight's blade slipped from his hand, and they both went into the river. Robert drew the hunting knife given to him by Jon. The Stormlord struck, and the Kingsguard hand shot out like a cobra grabbing Roberts wrist. His free hand shot up drove a dirk between the plates on Roberts pauldron. The dirk burrowed into his arm, electing a growl of fury. The Knight in a feat of surprising strength bucked Robert off him. Surprised, the Stormlrod swallowed a gulp of water as he fell down. Robert tried to lift his hammer, but Ser Barristan grabbed his wrist and struck for Robert's neck. Robert just barely put his wrist against Ser Barristans. At this moment, Robert's strength failed him as he gasped in more water, and he felt his muscles cease up.

"My Lord!" Another armored figure tackled Ser Barristan off Robert. The Stormlord was able to sit up and cough up water.

"I can't breath, I can't bloody breath!" Robert choked out and removed his antlered helm to gasp for air. Robert turned and saw Ser Barristan with a dirk sticking from his neck. Ser Beric kneeling over the knight, holding his bleeding side.

"Beric!" Ned coughed out and got back to his feet, the chaos of the battle raging around him.

"Slipped the dirk between my breastplate," Beric explained grimaced.

"The King!" Robert groggily stood back up, hammer in hand. He picked up his helm, putting it on again. Robert staggered to Ser Beric and helped him to his feet, he guided him his own horse and helped him on it. The rest of Roberts personal guard finally cut a path to the back. "Take him, take the king back, I'm going to finish this damn battle!" Robert found Ser Barristan's horse and climbed on.

"My Lord, you're wounded!" Ser Beric insisted.

"Do not disobey me Ser, go and safeguard our King." Robert reined the horse in, while the other knights helped put the King behind Ser Beric. Robert's horse was the only one strong enough to hold to men in full plate. "The rest of you come with me and let's kill us a dragon!" Robert's men cheered, and he began a slow trudge downriver to find Prince Rhaegar again.

Despite his wounds, Robert brandished his hammer with impunity. His fury kept any pain at bay as he grounded men down hunting for Rhaegar. It wasn't until Robert reached the ford maker that the Stormlord found Prince Rhaegar. He was leading his knights against their foot. Robert roared and forced his mount to charge at the dragon prince. _I'm coming for you, you whoreson!_

"Protect the Prince!" a Knight with a redfish on his surcoat blocked Roberts path. The Stormlord made short work of him, caving his head in with a single swing of the hammer. One last fool stood between Robert and Rhaegar, and it pained Robert; it was one his own bannermen. The skulls and lips on the knight's surcoat gave him away. _You took my beloved and turned my own men against me!_ Robert's fury engulfed him once more. He swung his hammer with inhuman strength that he dismounted Ser Richard Lonmouth.

"Rhaegar!" Robert bellowed out the name as they finally crossed arms. Rhaegar was armed with traditional arms of a knight, sword, and shield. The jewels on his sword and breastplate caught the sun lighting the prince in ethereal light. Robert swung, and the prince expertly parried each swing.

"Cousin!" The Prince yelled out, and Robert only roared in anger.

"Do not call me kin!" Robert grabbed his hammer with both hands delivered blow after blow on the Prince. His fatigue, his wounds, nothing slowed him down. The moment they started this battle, he ceased to be human and was vengeance in flesh and bone!

"I shall not ask again, yield!" The Prince parried a strike ant stabbed beneath Roberts armpit. The blade dug in, but Robert ignored the pain and swung at Rheagar's chest. The Prince lifted his shield, taking the blow the last second.

"Give her back! Where is she answer me!" Robert swung and smashed what was left of Prince Rhaeagar's shield.

"My Prince!" A daft cunt cut in Robert's opinion charged him, Robert took his head off, sending it flying into the battle. The headless man rode past them both.

"Lord Baratheon, Lyanna!" The Prince's voice was regretful, but perhaps it was only his mind tricking him. Robert only felt his ire rise tenfold hearing his beloved's name come from the whoreson.

"Do not say her name!" Robert threw blow after blow that would have killed a lesser man. But the Prince of Dragonstone parried every blow and delivered his own precise attacks. Robert parried what he could and let his armor take care of the ones he could not. Their horses snorted and rounded one another.

Just out of the corner of his eye, he watched his brave men hold off the dragon's reinforcements. They fought equally as savagely as Robert worked to end the battle once and for all. _Die, die die!_ His purpose was singular, Robert's castle could be in flames right behind Rhaegar, and still, he would be blind to it. "I will end this, for the realm!" the prince dejectedly shouted back at Robert.

Prince Rhaegar swung for Robert's neck. Robert ducked, and Rhaegar's sword caught his antlers. The antler fell from Robert's helm. "Lyanna!" Robert, with every fiber of his being, swung his hammer at the exposed Prince. With a crack like a god's fist, Robert smashed his Warhammer into Prince Rhaegars chest. It was a moment of utter bliss and horror for everyone around him.

The rubies from the Prince's chest were flung into the river, the Prince fell from his horse into the stream of corpses. Men rushed against Robert, his own guard brought up the rear, and Robert mindlessly swung his hammer. More men died until horns blared across the battlefield.

"The Prince is dead!" The shout spread like wildfire and the loyalist broke all sense of order. Men cast down their weapons and sprinted in a full retreat.

"Ride the whoresons down!" One of Robert's men yelled, Robert didn't see who. His cavalry simply tore through the river to cut down the fleeing loyalist turning the field into a bloodbath.

As all this happened, Robert was numb, he stared at the broken prince atop a pile of bodies. Robert dismounted his horse, and the beast fled the moment Robert was off it. He did not care, the Stormlord cast away his helmet and drop his hammer. He knelt by the prince and removed his black helm. The prince was alive, wheezing, and gasping with tears in his eyes.

"Where, where is she, where is my beloved!" Robert hissed into Rhaegars face.

"Dssss, wheeze." Whatever the Prince was saying died in his pierced lungs. "Dsss rn." The Prince's eyes fluttered his hand reached out before muttering something. "Lyssansssa."

Robert's face twisted into pain and anger, a tear of sheer frustration dropped against the dead prince face. Robert grabbed the fallen man and simply glared into the man's closed eyes. A guttural scream tore itself from Robert's chest. A scream drowned by the chorus of death around him. 

**Aegon**

"Your Grace!" Aegon gasped for breath, reaching for his sword. Instead, he found his wrist held by somebody.

"Calm yourself, Aegon!" That was Aegon's father. He looked around, finding himself laying down on the bank of the Trident. He sat up, looking around him, to see his men cheer loudly.

"What happened." Aegon stood up, slowly, his head was killing him.

"Brace yourself, my king." Stark held Aegon's shoulder firmly. The King took a moment to steady himself. The river and the field before him were littered with corpses and crows flying overhead. Aegon blinked, then turned to look at the gathered men before him. They looked on worriedly at their king, but Aegon wasn't paying them no heed. He was alive, he wasn't in chains, and his Lords were here.

"By the Seven, we won?" Even coming from his mouth, it sounded impossible.

"Yes, the battle is won, and the way to Kings Landing is clear." His father nodded.

"What happened?" Aegon remembered charing on Prince Rhaegar's position, but that was it.

"I won you the battle is what happened!" Aegon turned to Robert, his armor and surcoat stained in blood. He was tired, but the man never looked strongest.

"Where is Prince Rhaegar?" Aegon asked.

"Burning in the Seven Hells, where his cunt father will follow soon." Robert spat on the ground his fury returning briefly. "Slew the bastard myself, caved his chest in with my Warhammer." Robert lifted his hammer, covered in gore.

"I should have disarmed the bastard, and broken a bone in his body for every time he did not tell me where Lyanna is," Robert growled and turned to leave in a fuming fury.

"Let him rest my king," Ned sighed, looking towards his childhood friend. "We share the same frustrations, Rhaegar Targaryen is dead, my sister's whereabouts die with him." Ned kicked the ground in frustration. "Forgive me, I must see to my men." Ned left Aegon, his northern trailing behind him all hard faced.

"Some King I turned out to be, slept through the whole battle." Aegon rubbed his temples.

"Missed my moment of glory!" Valerion came up behind him. He was free of his armor, and his arm was on a sling. "Of course, I might not be able to take the Iron Throne with you." Valerion grimaced and held his wounded arm.

"What happened to you, Valerion?" Aegon looked at his cousin, just now noticing the limp in his brother's step.

"I fought Ser Lewyn Martell in single combat, he's in my tent. The Maester is tending to his wounds." A smirk crossed Valerion's face. "It would be a shame to let such a good man die."

"He is of Aery's Kingsguard, is it wise to keep him alive?" Aegon narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"He is a man of honor, should he refuse to yield." Valerion trailed off, "well, The Wall is always looking for good men." Valerion shrugged, "or Starks Northmen say."

True enough, killing the man wasn't the only option available to Aegon." Well then, I would have a report on our situation. Casualties etc., and hopefully an update on the Tywin Lannister situation." Aegon turned to leave, only to notice a strong army marching around the rear. "Who in the seven hells are they?" Aegon subconsciously gripped Blackfyre's pommel.

"Our reinforcements," drawled Aegon's father. "Lord Walder Frey finally mustered his bannermen," a small grin cracked his father's face. "Lord Hoster is already calling him, the late Lord Walder Frey." He even chuckled a bit.

"Right, I will treat with my Lords in my tent." Aegon looked around for a moment, seemingly lost.

"A horse for the king!" Ser Edmure rode down his scale armor bloody. He dismounted his horse and offered it to Aegon. "Thank you, Ser Edmure." Aegon took the horse, and the Tully heir merely tipped his head with a toothy grin.

Aegon's ride back to camp was without glamor. His men would bow to him and carry on with their tasks. The grim task at that. Collecting wounded, and giving the Strangers peace to the ones beyond saving. Silent Sisters stalked battlefield, delivering a quite blade to those in need of it. The crows meanwhile gorged themselves in the feast left for them. Funeral pyres were lit and thank the seven upwind from the camp.

By the day's end, the night was lit by hundreds of funeral pyres. The camp set on a hill, so Aegon atop his horse could look out to the hundreds of flames and men huddled by them. Septons gave sermons, and the Northmen quietly prayed to their faceless gods. When morning came, Aegon was given a brief of their situation. Their casualties manageable some three thousand men lost their lives in the battle. Of note, Ser Lyn Corboray's father died this very morning of his wounds. As he lay dying, he bequeaths Lady Forlon to his younger son Lyn Corbray. Aegon watched his older brother Lyonel, barely conceal his anger at the matter.

Eddard Stark as well had another of his personal guard die, in Theo Wull. A blow from a mace left him lame and barely aware of his surroundings. Lord Stark himself perform the mercy killing with a face betraying no emotion. Thankfully the notable losses stopped there. Meanwhile, the loyalist army was utterly broken. Aegon's army pursued the broken loyalist day and night, before returning this morning. No man was rallying the lost souls marching back to Kings Landing. The once mighty host of forty thousand men were cut down to an estimated fifteen thousand at most.

The Loyalist lost was substantial, Ser Lewyn Martell was now their prisoner. Ser Mooton, who had saved the loyalist at the Stony Sept, was slain by Robert. Ser Richard Lonmouth barely escaped death and was now in chains. Lord Arnold Darry was also killed, his son Ser Raymon Darry now a captive bent the knee. Lord Stark himself slew Aery's Hand of the King Lord Qarlton was cut in two by Lord Stark on the ford of the Trident. Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard as well met his end, a knight of great renown and the honor went to Ser Beric. The Knight tried denying the fact, saying Robert should earn praise, he fought Ser Barristan to a near standstill. Lord Robert would have none of it, his sour mood from the day before was gone, and he praised Ser Beric. Several Crownland banners bent the knee and swelled Aegon's numbers with their now meager personal retinues. Their victory had cost them, but soon, the war was going to end.

Aegon ordered the second day of rest and prepared to march the next morning. While he oversaw the preparations, Ser Harry Strickland of all people rode to him frazzled and out of breath. "My King! My King!" Harry slumped on his horse, gasping for breath.

Aegon rolled his eyes and gestured for one of his man to hand him a water skin. Harry drank his fill and wiped his mouth afterward. "Well, speak, man, come on," Aegon demanded.

"It was a ruse! Lord Tywin had gathered his men at Lannisport, not The Golden Tooth! He is now marching on Kings Landing with ten thousand men!" Harry waved his arms around frantically.

"Has he declared for anybody?" Aegon demanded.

"I don't know, Ser Brynden took Ser Richard and rode to intercept Lord Tywin's army." Harry put his hand against his chest, finally calming down.

"Damn, he will have an advantage if he reaches Kings Landing first. Someone fetch me, Lord Stark!" Aegon demanded. Three of the men with him quickly rode off. Aegon ordered Harry to get some rest and food, Strickland happily obliged. An hour later, Lord Stark arrived.

"Your Grace, how may I serve?" Stark bowed atop his horse.

"Lord Tywin has made his move, he rides for Kings Landing," Aegon explained.

"Troubling, I assume he has not made his intentions clear." Stark was perceptive, the king could admit that.

"Aye, I want you to ride south, take a vanguard of Northmen and escort my Lord father to meet with Lord Tywin," Aegon said.

"My Lord, how many men should we bring?" A fair question, speed was of the essence.

"Five hundred mounted knights or Northmen of yours," Aegon said.

Stark nodded but did not leave to do s told, "My King." Stark began, "If Lord Tywin declares for Aerys, should I die. I would ask you to have Ashara, and my child is taken safely to Winterfell." Ned quietly lamented.

"I understand, you have my word, Lord Stark." Aegon clasped hands with the Northman and Stark left to assemble his men and Aegon's Lord father. While every man went to do as the King commanded, Aegon looked on to his army. The war was coming to a close, one way or another, everything would end at Kings Landing.

 **Hello there, I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide. Well, I came back, that was nonsense what I just said back there. Did you miss me? I understand if you're more mad than glad, I was gone for quite a long time. But to be honest, I found it necessary. I went into a self-imposed exile, which went on for nearly three years now. But as things stood, I was not very happy with my writing. I was relying on far too much on the goodwill of my fellow readers. I needed to be better, to improve so one day I can make my own book and hopefully read fanfics about my own work out there. But I digress, thank you all for this continued support, I hope finishing this short story will lead us to greater things. As for my earlier projects? Well, I think I will be taking a sledgehammer to them and reworking them from the ground up.**

 **I hope you all understand, I want to be better, so I will rework my content into something better. As a note on that, I will be rewriting the A Song of Ice and Fire series I started some time ago. I am no longer happy with it, I feel more characters and plots needing expanding upon. Not to mention I wasn't as involved into the lore of the books as I am now. I will leave the story where it is…for now. If you guys prefer it, I can leave it there when the rewrite is up as well.**

 **Well then, that's enough of that. Let's answer some questions long since needing answering shall we?**

 **Vir Italicus: I hope what little of Ned is in these chapters sedates your curiosity, he is overall the same as I pictured him as a young man. Softspoken, but a warrior when necessary. I hope I showed as well how he feels a bit out of his element being Lord Stark. The doubts about using Ice come from the very idea this sword was never meant to be his. But now, I think after the Stoney Sept, Ned is stepping well into his role as the Warden of the North. Now concerning Ashford? I think Robert was ambushed honestly, that's why I portrayed it as I did. Randyl Tarly never struck me like a waiting man. If he has the chance to take the battle to the enemy, by god he's going to do it. Catching Robert on march seemed the opportune time. I hope that answers your question!**

 **TMI Fairy: I hope I "subverted your expectations," hah. I had always planned for Jon to die, but in hindsight, I think I should have had Ned or Robert be there for Jon's final battle. Connington is another I knew had to die. Not out of personal hatred, but because of his hunger for glory and approval from Rhaegar made him more reckless. Had Mooton not called for the retreat, well, I don't think there was going to be a battle of the Trident. Aegon would have been confident of meeting Rhaegar, and probably thirty to twenty-five thousand men. I believe a vast bulk of the forces from the crownlands coming with Rhaegar, had to be the forces that escaped the Stoney Sept. Rhaegar, I think would have only matched Roberts numbers had Connington fallen and the army not reiterated in good order. But yeah, Ser Denys is now Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East. Lysa Tully has a handsome husband and Petyr, I can assure you is a distant memory to her.**

 **Random Person: Lol, well you got your wish, Jon Connington died. Wounded by Jon Arryn, he lost his head to Ser Denys.**

 **Reichenfaust: Oh, thank you! I hope chapters four and five are to your liking as well! Barkas strategy at Cannae was brilliant. He decimated an overconfident and haughty opponent despite his inferior numbers. But this would not work here. The loyalists don't benefit from engaging Robert, they need to hold for reinforcements. I didn't see Lord Fell giving chase to Aegon when he had nothing to gain from it. Aegon and Robert knew this, so they took the initiative and buckled Lord Fells center with MOTHER EFFING WAR ELEPHANTS! As far as the ambush by Randyl Tarly, I agree. As Robert eloquently put it, they got caught with their breeches down and both hands on their cocks. Randyl is a harsh man, but a soldier through and through. I imagined he forced a night march, hell he probably had his men march ahead of Aegon's position. Take the day to rest and then use the next day to catch Aegon and his men unaware. If there was one thing I hated about GOT later seasons, is how piss-poor it was to military strategy. Nobody and I do mean freaking nobody in that damn show knows how to freaking scout. Seriously, Stannis got screwed by "twenty good men?" Were his scouts writing their name in the snow they didn't notice a party of twenty asshats sneaking about? Jon didn't know about the Vale reinforcements? Aren't the Wildings expert trackers and hunters? Not one of them noticed a bunch of mounted knights? Don't even get me started on the Loot Train battle. Jaime had just said in the previous episode, he learned from his defeat by Robb Stark. Apparently not, because he allowed a hundred thousand Dothraki and a BLEEDING dragon to fuck him in the ass. Oi, the writing post season four. Nothing short of tragic, so I thought I'd let the good people here know what proper freaking military strategy should look like! But I digress, I'm not saying I'm some master tactician, but I sure as hell am better than anyone in the damn show seems to be.**

 **Alright, that's all folks, I shall see you next time, maybe even expect a prologue chapter for the rewrite of A Song of Ice and Fire soon.**


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